Poptart turns 4 today! She was born four years ago at 5:36 a.m. Brad woke me up this morning before he left for work and told me I looked better than I did four years ago at that time. Thanks!
I can't believe she's four. My baby. As I was tucking her in last night, I was telling her the story of her birth.
No offense to anyone who was there for her birth, but my fondest memory came when I was all alone. Brad came home to be with Gogurt, and I stayed overnight in the hospital alone. The nurses brought Poptart to me during the middle of the night for a feeding. They had rubbed her down with a good-smelling lotion, and I swear I could have consumed her. I felt total peace at that moment, just me and my newborn. No talking, no pictures being snapped, no nurses poking and prodding, just me and her in the silence. For a moment, the world stopped. In fact, there was no world outside my hospital door. She was finally in my arms, and I soaked up every peaceful moment of it.
Of course, Poptart does not care about all that emotional stuff, she just wants a party and a present. She'll be taking donut holes to her class today, and the family is getting together for a party Saturday.
I hope your day is a blessed one!