Darling Daughter,

I thought the words from the other day were enough, but no.  Because it was a year ago today when you became clear.

It was a year ago today that I was stuck in a battle of wills between you and a nurse.  Oh she was so mad I wasn’t waking you and feeding you.  But how I would have loved to!  I was a breath away from being locked away for torture but you slept on through.  As the nurse gave up and declared me unfit due to letting you “starve” I realized within a matter of days that you’d be the baby I needed.

My baby who could sleep through her brother screaming bloody murder as your daddy tickled him a foot away.  You, my darling, were laid back and could sleep through anything.  Anything but hunger.  You let us know when your tummy needed filled.  You were willing to wake up and cry out.  But there was no waking you if you chose sleep.  And for much of those early days and weeks, you picked sleep.

I use to call you my lap kitty.  You would sleep and sleep, sprawled across my lap while I filled out job applications looking for a job that would keep us happy and healthy.

Oh how I snuggled you.

You use to camp out on my bed while I watched Doctor Who on Netflix.  I placed you gently on the other side of the bed but you’d wiggle your way up alongside me and then eventually under my arm.  I’d be all ready with barriers so you didn’t fall of the bed, but I needn’t have worried, you gravitated towards the warmth of momma.

When we weren’t exploring the Universe in the TARDIS together, I took you everywhere I went.  Especially the first 2 months.  You slept through it all, so it wasn’t difficult to take you everywhere.

I even joked that I needed a job where I could bring you along.  You’d make an excellent lobby manager at the bank.  Though, my boss is talking about knocking out a wall and contacting fisher price for a cash drawer.

Then I turned away from being the least girly of the bunch to the biggest advocate for tutus and frill.  Your daddy yelled at me in those first few days that you weren’t a baby doll.  Luckily, all you did ever was sleep so I could argue there wasn’t much to do with you besides dress you up and snuggle you.

It was in your first few days where I realized real fast your oldest brother liked you much more than he liked me.  But, that’s OK.  He’s been asking for a baby sister for years.  It become clear when the first words out of mouth when he got home from school were, “Where’s the baby?!?”  It was part question, part demand.

As I watched your youngest, older brother morph into a big brother, my heart grew about 20 sizes.  Your first few days, he was building tracks around you so he could teach you how to play with trains.  And then as you became a threat to his toys, he’s shown a patience with you I didn’t know he was capable of.  Sure, he verbalizes his frustrations as he switches what hot-wheel cars you taste, but he doesn’t hit or push you like he does others.  As rough and tumble as he is, you he treats as gently as if you were a butterfly.

When I learned while pregnant that you were a daughter, I joked that you needed to be born with chain mail.  Little did I realize you already had it waiting.  Daughter I present your chain mail: Big brothers.  Both of them.  No one will keep you safer than those 2 as you grow.  Except maybe your daddy.

OK, probably your daddy.

You turn you big hunk of a daddy into a pile of mush.  A pile of melted, daddy’s-in-love gush.  And then you melt him all over again.  When you cry out for “Dada!” when you topple over and bonk your head.  When Dada is able to calm your tears.  When Dada placed you at the center of his universe, and you put him at the center of yours.

You two are growing a father-daughter relationship that all other father-daughter relationships will grow to envy.

Your family isn’t the only one fond of you.

That becomes clear when I take you places.  Gender, race nor age seems to matter when it comes to people fussing over you.  I can’t take you anywhere unless I’m willing to deal with the swarm of admirers you draw.

But I think the best way to share your personality is by sharing your first word: Hi!  Sure Mama and Dada entered your vocabulary, but “Hi!” was there first, there early, and you meant it.  Oh how you meant it.

Darling Daughter, I can’t promise this will be your last first birthday letter.  Just like I can’t promise I’ll ever grow tired of seeing you light up when you see your brothers, Thomas insisting on kissing you goodnight, Lucas touching your hands and face like you might break, your father melt at the batting of your long lashes, or my heart melt when you throw you head back, close your eyes and grin.

I promise to keep you stocked in tutus until you beg me to stop.  I promise to start back up when you realize I was right about you in them.

I promise some of the biggest goals in my life are to take you prom dress shopping, wedding dress shopping, and holding your hand as you give me a Grandbaby.

I promise you will never be so old that I won’t sob as I write these letters.

I promise you are everything you are meant to be.  You are, no matter what, good enough, just right, and wonderfully loved.  And anything beyond you being you is gravy.

Because I promise you no matter what I am your momma and I will always love you!

Words from a year ago:
Introducing Samantha Lavay
Samantha Lavay’s Story Part 1 The Birth
Samantha Lavay’s Story Part 2 Meet My Baby
Samantha Lavay’s Story Part 3 Reflections

My darling baby girl,

My whole life I waited for you to enter my world.  At the age of two I was falling in love with what would be your name.  At four I was given my first dolly that would share your name.  I still have that dolly waiting for you to be big enough to handle her.  As I grew bigger and got to where I was dating and trying to find your future daddy, it wasn’t just about who I wanted to grow old with, I was looking for someone as excited as I was about bringing my Samantha into the world.  That, was your daddy.  So don’t worry, I married him real fast.

It took us a few tries.  We got your big brothers first.  But I really think that was how it was meant to be.  No one can possibly love you like your brothers do.  You are their own personal precious metal.  Someone to be cherished, protected, and adored.  No one can get you to belly laugh like your oldest brother Thomas.  He got your first few.  And even now at a year old, if you need cheering up, it’s Thomas we call in.  Your Lucas, however, shows no bigger concern for your happiness.  He is a sensitive boy and you are a grand recipient for the fierceness of his love.

Your daddy.  There just aren’t words.  He’s wanted a daughter his whole life as fiercely as he’s needed oxygen to keep breathing.  You are his pearl.  His hopes.  His dreams.  You are his everything and his world became brighter the second you entered it.

My world became brighter.

You are magic.  I search my soul looking for the words to tell you about you and they don’t exist.  You are everything I had ever hoped for in my daughter.  My Samantha.  And yet, you go so far beyond my hopes and dreams.  I figured I had the love of a parent for a child  figured out well before you.  After all, I had been a mother for 8 years before you came into my life.  But I was so far wrong.  So incredibly wrong.

I’m not afraid to tell you that you weren’t planned.  Sure mommy and daddy were going to start trying for you within the year, but not yet.  We weren’t ready.  Mommy was in a job she hated and wanted to get settled into a new one.  Our house wasn’t big enough.  Our income wasn’t quite right.  But there you were.  Doing things your way and in your time.  And I can’t help but know however ready we may not have felt, we wouldn’t have wanted things any other way.

You are our miracle.  We shouldn’t have gotten pregnant, here you are.  Daddy isn’t suppose to be able to have little girls, you are the apple of his eye.  My pregnancy with you was miserable, but I laughed you into the world.

Suddenly nothing else mattered in that 4:00 hour of the afternoon on August 30, 2011.

After 30 minutes of laughing you past my pelvic bone that you were stuck on, and seeing your beautiful face, and that whooper of a bruise on your forehead… Nothing.  Else.  Mattered.

You are everything this family ever needed to be complete, and now that you are here we are whole.  The 5 of us are whole.

Watching you grow over the 12 months that followed has been an experience.  With your brothers I was so depressed that I don’t recall much of their early months and years.  With you I was different.  You have brought a happiness and a calmness to our family allowing us all to enjoy your achievements and growth.

You do things on your terms.  As a Princess, you’ll have it no other way.  We are all well aware you could walk if you want to.  But princesses don’t walk.  You hold your own bottle, but only because that means you don’t have to be confined to our arms when you eat.  You are into everything and bring terror to the organization of all.

You are sweet, peaceful, loving.  You are goofy, happy, and creative.

You are our pride, our joy, our happiness, our Princess.

You are our Sammy, SamBam, Samtron, Dark Lady Samageddon, Samulous Prime, Samurai.

You are our Samantha Lavay Marrs.  And we waited a very long damn time for you to enter our world.  And now that you’re here, we’re everything we hoped for and beyond. Happy first birthday, my beautiful baby girl!