This post is long overdue. Even on my blog, the poor child is shafted by her Christmas birthday. Along with birthday presents wrapped in Christmas paper and the infamous “combined” birthday and Christmas gifts, she receives late mention here in bloggityville.
Caroline, you see, has always had a mind of her own. Her pregnancy was planned, as most of my life is, around such inconveniences. Her due date was January 20-something. I can’t remember the exact date.
But she arrived, of her own volition, as she does most everything, squarely on Christmas Eve, a full four weeks before her due date, and thus incurred upon herself the curse of the Christmas birthday once and forevermore.
It was, without a doubt, my most memorable Christmas ever. She was of course the most wonderful Christmas surprise I could possibly imagine, but her hospital stay was fraught with complications, resulting in the highs and lows of a three-day stay in the NICU. Nothing was particularly serious, but each carried its own unique stressors, and an emotional roller coaster inevitably ensued.
This roller coaster wrecked havoc on my own hormonal post-partum emotions as well as on the delicate three-year-old emotions of the little boy waiting at home, spending Christmas without his Mama.
I will never forget the scene he and I created in the crowded hospital cafeteria the day he thought we were coming home, once again to have his hopes dashed when the doctors informed me that the new baby needed another day. And how we both wept and clung to one another, while my mom pried him out of my arms and took him home, leaving me to follow several hours later, still without my baby.
Fortunately the joy and magic she brings to all of our lives far overshadows any stress and heartache we experienced those first few days of her life.
She is my second of three, my first daughter, every bit the princess. From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was mine despite the blond curls.
She was so teeny-tiny, weighing in at only 5 lbs, 6 oz and 18 inches long. Small in stature but never short on spunk.
She had a mind of her own from the very beginning, loving to be held and coddled, and carried and bounced throughout the day. And yet always a happy, good-natured little creature.
These days she is spunky, charming, and social.
She loves to be silly.
She talks incessantly.
She loves all things pink.
She loves lip gloss and nail polish and play-doh and princesses and shopping. I told you she is mine!
She tells you exactly what she thinks, without hesitation, and most children do exactly as she says.
She is the middle child, but for some reason, I do not fear she will get lost in the shuffle.
She is my princess, the light of my life.
Happy Birthday, C!