A year ago today, my baby made his traumatic entrance into this world. At 32 weeks, 3 days. We were so ill-prepared, we didn't even have our camera. Will's first picture was taken with a cell phone. I was loopy from drugs and the experience was not at all as I imagined it would be.
Having a baby in the NICU is a complicated thing. For one, he doesn't really feel like he belongs to you. I had to ask permission to change his diaper. Hold him. Also, everyone you know asks when he'll be coming home, and having to admit that you haven't a clue is the most heartbreaking thing.
On his first birthday, it's impossible not to recall how this whole thing got started. After 15 days we brought him home. And he was officially ours.
We've never been the host/hostess type. Planning and organizing parties is a completely foreign thing. Case in point: we had approximately 13 people at our wedding and I wore a $20 dress.
So how does one even begin to celebrate the life of the single most important person to exist in their world?
You go as big as you know how.
When you hold a cake in front of an already-grumpy-in-need-of-a-nap baby who's dying to get his hands on it, you can expect the only family picture taken on his birthday to look like this:
After cake, Will was taken directly to bed for a "nap." After about 20 minutes of "napping," I decided to let him re-join his party. Only to walk in on him standing there naked in a puddle of pee. Dude knows how to party.
Will, everyone likes to remind me that you will not remember this day. But I will. I will always remember the love and effort that went into the planning and preparation - just to make your first birthday our own version of perfect. I will always remember the people that came to help us celebrate you. You are so loved. I hope you always remember that.