Today Bailey and Cooper turn one. It's incredible how much more that means to me than them. They aren't even aware that it was their birthday. In the last few days leading up to their first birthday I took a little trip down memory lane, reading journal entries from this time last year. Not that I had forgotten everything but the words brought back a flood of memories, stored comfortably for the past eleven and a half months.
Yesterday morning I thought about getting up at 3 am on January 4th of last year, anxious and excited, thinking my babies would it make there entrance sometime later in the afternoon. I counted the minutes down until 6 am when I could call the hospital to see if they had room for me.
Yesterday evening I thought about watching the Incredible Hulk and not being able to feel my legs thanks to the epidural. How pointlessly we spent those last few hours as a family of two. Bana's Hulk was the reason we swore off television after our children arrived.
I've thought about the nurse checks, the pain returning as the epidural wore off, the happiness that surrounded me the moment Coop was born, followed by fear when Bailey turned. The pushing on my stomach that ensued, the wheeling me to the O.R. Being strapped to the table. The sound of Bailey's first cry and how much stronger she sounded than Coop despite the circumstances. How happy I was when they told me she would go straight to the nursery, how alone I felt when Ward left to take her there.
The long morning of recovery, the visitors and flowers. The desire to sleep I'd never felt before and haven't since. My stubborn persistence to not share my children with our visiting friends and family.
I wonder if these memories and emotions will always return to me in this powerful a way on the celebration of their birth, or if they will fade as year's pass? I know one thing, despite their being unaware of today and it's significance, their birthday means a lot to me.