Dear Finley...

I can't believe you are one.  How has it been a year since you were born?  I can't believe you are one!

I remember every day of your pregnancy like it was yesterday.  I remember the year and a half of hoping and praying for you before the test was positive.  I remember the miscarriage I had a few months before you were conceived...I remember thinking we'd never have another baby...that we were just supposed to have two.  I remember the same week I found out my parents were separating...the test was finally positive!  I was finally pregnant...and it was the real thing this time.  I remember thinking that this was what His timing was all about.  A miracle indeed.

I remember the OB appointment I had at 12 weeks.  The nurse couldn't find your heartbeat.  I was so scared.  What if I had miscarried again?  I mean...this was it.  No more tries.  I remember the doctor saying not to worry...that this was an excuse for an ultrasound (if I wanted one...are you kidding me...YES!!!)  I remember the ultrasound tech finding you and your perfect little heartbeat and assuring me everything was ok.  I also remember her telling me at 12 weeks that you were a girl.  No.  I'm sorry.  We don't make those. I remember not telling a soul (except Brad, of course) that you were a girl.  Could it be??  I remember never believing the ultrasound tech...yet I bought a pink and brown bumper for your crib just one week later.  I could always sell it...

I remember going to the emergency room at only 18 weeks along because I was having contractions.  Geez, Louise...contractions from 18 weeks until the day you were born!  My uterus sucks.  I remember all the ultrasounds (because of my teeny tiny baby history), I remember every time they told me you were a girl...and I never believed them.  I remember being told the Friday before Memorial Day that I would have to be induced because you, too, were a teeny tiny baby.  I remember running to Carter's to buy teeny tiny pink outfits...and then taking the boys to see Shrek at the movie theatre.  It was the last adventure with just me and my boys...when I only had boys.  When we were a family of four...

I remember going to the hospital to be induced.  As if I had slept at all the night before??  Right.  We got there at 5 am...induction started at 6 am.  Brad was in the bathroom of my hospital room for 2 hours on an important conference call.  I remember at 11 am I was only 6 cm dilated.  The nurse finally convinced me that if I got an epidural things would progress faster.  Fine.  I remember it being the best freakin epidural of any of my pregnancies...and I remember 40 minutes later paging the nurse because "it was time."  Two pushes later and you were out.  And perfect.

I remember the first two weeks of your life...you were not good at nursing.  (Just like your brothers.)  I remember going in for weight checks every 3 days...and you weren't gaining weight.  I remember the doctor telling me that I couldn't nurse you anymore...you were burning too many calories nursing...you needed formula.  So I stopped nursing...you got your formula...and YOU GREW!!  See...nursing isn't always best.  I was thrilled I didn't have to do it because I hated every minute of it.  I remember feeling guilty with each of my babies that I hated nursing...and even guiltier when I stopped.   I was so relieved when the doctor told me not to nurse you.  It was ok.  And you thrived.  (And if you are an advocate of breastfeeding...kudos to you.  It didn't work out for me...so don't even bother leaving a nasty response about it.  It won't get posted.  None of my kids were nursed past 8 weeks old...and they are all healthy, normal, and smart.  Who woulda' thought??)

I remember the all-nighters for the first two months.  For some reason I was never really exhausted.  Three kids and not exhausted??  But I wasn't.  I was on such a baby high...knowing you were our last baby...knowing how to do the all nighters...soaking in every feeding...every coo...every cry...every thing. You immediately fit right into our family and we just kept rolling on.  And then someone hit the FFW button.  First smile, first squeal, first hissy fit, first foods, first hug, first holiday, first trip, first year...first daughter...I can't believe you are one!!!!  We love you so much, little baby girl.

Happy first birthday.