This week I’ve been feeling all the feels as we approach yet another family milestone. Tomorrow is Hannah’s birthday and, while it’s not a particularly monumental birthday in the general timeline of birthdays, for me it feels huge. You see, Hannah is my baby. She’s the third child (and final) child who almost didn’t happen, and she’s the daughter who I never thought I would have. Her birth order and gender give her a unique place in our family, and somehow that makes each of her milestones all the more meaningful.
Somehow four feels very big to me. When she was three I could get away with calling her a preschooler or even a toddler. But now? Now she’s four. She’s big. She’s a certifiable kid. She has one more year until kindergarten. And then that’s it.
There’s not another baby in the queue coming up behind her that I can snuggle and rock through the night. As Hannah ages out of this stage of life, my days of nursing and diaper changes and stroller walks are over forever. And as much as I struggled through some of those days of nursing and diaper changes and stroller walks, I will miss them deeply. The babyhood years with my children were some of the most exhausting, rewarding, trying, learning, messy, beautiful years of my life. A piece of me (mostly the piece that’s not nursing around the clock or changing infinity million diapers or walking fussy babies in the stroller at 3 AM) is sad to see them end.
But end they must, because God’s work is not yet done.
I can’t wait to see what these next few years and the next few years beyond that hold in store for you. I can’t wait to see which interests you pursue and which passions come to define you. I can’t wait to see which paths you pursue in your life. Maybe you’ll be a “baby doctor”–and if those 87 baby dolls that you’ve patched up in our living room are any testament to your skills, you’ll be a darn good one. Or maybe you’ll continue down the path of a fashionista and you’ll transform the world one yoga-pants-wearing woman at a time. Or maybe you’ll be a CEO of your own Fortune 500 company (we all know who wears the pants in this family). Whatever you choose to do I know that you’ll bring your whole sweet, sassy, happy self into it. And as long as you do you, it will be amazing.
I see hope and joy for your future. I see the love you have and the love you give, and I know you will impact the world for the better. I see the curiosity you have for the world around you, and I know that you will help others to see things in new ways. I see the growth you have already made in four short years, and I look forward to the leaps and bounds that still await you. You, my precious daughter, are bound for greatness.
And while I will cherish your baby days and already anticipate your future, even more than any of that I will celebrate who you are today. You are four now, for now. As quickly as the last stage passed, this one, too, will soon be gone. Today is a gift, and I plan on enjoying every bit of it with you while we still have it. Let’s be silly and snuggly and throw tantrums when we need to. Because you are four, but only for now.
I love you, sweet Hannah Doreen. Happy fourth birthday–let’s make it the best one yet!