Our Meadow

We had planned this.  We had wanted this.  But there was that feeling that comes with all change.  FEAR.

I remember the morning vividly.  I was wearing blue jeans and a white and purple striped t-shirt.  My friend, Lisa, came over and I shared our news through tears. . . nervous, scared tears.  She cried, too.  Her tears were different.  Happy, excited tears.  A Mama of 4, Lisa knew what I hadn’t yet grasped–our hearts would be wrecked with love again. 

The shock and fear settled in for several days.  Life was just beginning to feel manageable.  We were out of diapers, we no longer needed to consider naps and feedings and all the little complications that come with babies.  What were we thinking?

We laugh about it now.  That fear.  That concern.  That overwhelming terror of the unknown.  The fear of change.  We laugh at it now because we couldn’t imagine life any other way.  We couldn’t imagine our life or a world without this one. . .

Three years ago today our littlest entered the world and brought us more joy than we ever could have imagined.  Three years ago our family was made complete with her heart, her smile, her joy, and her character.  Three years ago today this sweet little soul entered the world.

Three years ago today, Meadow was born. . .

We laugh now (and probably will until the end of our days) at the immediate concerns we had when we learned we were going to have a third baby.  I mean, we were trying to have another child–the shock was kind of silly.  But really, the fears?

Meadow has been such a delight.  An incredible delight.  And we celebrate her. . .

. . . everyday.

But today?  On her third birthday I get to be loud about it.  I get to write and shout it out. Because even if my words don’t mean a whole lot to her today, I know very well that someday, they will.

Sweet Meadow,


You are three years old today.  We’ve talked about it all week–how you are almost three.  We’ve talked about how you’re getting bigger.  We’ve had conversations about how I’m not a baby anymore.  It’s true what you say, your not a baby anymore. . .

I’ve sat here for awhile considering how I write an honest letter to a three year old.  How can you, at three years old, understand the depth and breadth of the love I have for you?  It occurs to me, though, that maybe more than the three year old that you are today, I’m writing to the woman you will be one day.

Oh Meadow, you are so deeply loved.  Before you arrived, we didn’t know what we were missing.  Once you arrived, it was clear–we were missing Meadow. . . 

Meadow, you have filled our life and our family with such a light and  joy and  goodness that only you could bring.  You make us laugh with your antics and you help each one of us enjoy life a bit more fully. . .

 

It would be easy to attribute all that to your three-year-old-ness.  Many might say you will grow out of it–or all little ones live with that sort of freedom.  I disagree, though.  This thing you have–the life that you bring to life?  I think that’s just you–it’s who you are.  You live life with a robustness that naturally brings others with you. . 

The way that you live, even at only three years from the starting line,  allows you to love with abandon and to experience life with freedom and to give your heart fully.

Oh, your heart.

Oh Meadow, your heart.  How do I describe the sweetness and purity of your heart?  The way you so naturally approach with a hug.  The way the words ‘I love you so much‘ fall so freely from your lips.  The way you always make sure that your brother and sister have just what they need.  The way you make sure we all know that you are Mommy and Daddy’s and Charlie’s and Chanelle’s girl.  Your heart Meadow. . .

. . . it makes us better.  Your heart makes us all better.

And the cool thing, Meadow?  The really cool thing?  We’ve barely begun to scratch the surface of all of your Meadow-ness.  We’ve only begun to get to know that beautiful heart that dwells within your tiny frame.  You have so much growing to do and yet you’ve already shown us that you are so uniquely YOU.  

And even though you’ve been a part of our family for exactly THREE years today, I still feel like you’re new.  I still feel so blessed that you are our daughter and each and every day I get to experience your tiny arms wrapped around my neck, your sweet voice calling me “Mama” and your heart of adventure stretching my heart of comfort. . . 

And I guess what I really want you to know Meadow–whether you are reading this when you are 13 or 30 or 50. . . I want you to know that you are loved more than my words could ever express. 

Our lives are richer and fuller and more joyful because of who you are.  Daddy and I are so proud of who you are–today and forever–we love who. you. are.

And I guess when all is said and done there is only one thing I really want you to know. . . 

Where ever you are or where ever you might go someday. . . 

. . . you are absolutely loved and fully appreciated. . . 

. . . simply for being you.

Thank you for being you, Meadow.

Happy Birthday, Sweet Girl.

I love you.

Mommy