Happy Birthday, Naiah!

This was how I met you:

One year ago last night, my water broke, but only a little bit.

So Grammie and Papa and Daddy and I stopped at In and Out for dinner, on the way to the birth center.

You weren't in much of a hurry to get out.

When we arrived, the midwife made us comfortable and ordered some drugs to get things moving. She made sure the epidural worked first, though. We liked her.

Two hours later, it was time for you to come out, five minutes before midnight, June 20th.

I didn't like June 20th for a birthdate.

So we waited five minutes, and out you came.

You were pretty upset about it.

You cried for 24 hours straight, except for the hours when you were latched on for dear life.

Your Grammie was sure you wouldn't wail like that forever, but I wasn't convinced.

Turns out she was right, of course. You were a sweet, quiet newborn, as long as you had Mama.

I liked that about you-- that you liked me.

It felt like you were really mine.

Now you're one year old, trying to walk, wanting your own way all the time.

But I still like you.

Happy Birthday, baby.