Dear My Josephine,
One year ago today, at this very hour, I was sitting upright in a hospital bed as the late November sunlight glanced through the blinds, cross-legged and amazed at how invigorated and awake I felt after a long, sleepless night that included much anxiousness, pain, bodily effort and, finally, wondrous relief. You came into the world just a few moments after 5 am, after nine long months of anticipation and only fifteen indescribably intense minutes of pushing on the part of your very tired, but very happy mama. Your papa was there too, of course, standing at the bottom of the bed, ready to catch you as you fell into our world. He was a little shocked, I think, at how quickly you made your appearance; when your brother was born we waited and waited and waited. But you are a different kind of person, it would seem. Intrepid, independent girl, even then, ready to get going, get on with it already.
You are still this way, and more so every day. How different from your first five months—all that pain and discomfort, all the medicine and anxiety (yours, ours). You did not have it easy, sweetie. But at six months, as you could sit up and begin to crawl around, explore, investigate, interact, everything shifted. Your eyes brightened (they were always bright) and we saw the white-blue spark that is your very essence ignite. Watch out world, you said, and off you went! Our athlete, our climber, our acrobat, you headed into every nook, every corner, every cabinet and took your time there, figuring stuff out (much of it with your mouth), loving the things of the world with your body and mind. Your papa and I just sat back, in awe, and watched.We watched as you recognized the kitties, as you lunged for them (poor kitties!) and learned a little how to be gentle. We watched you learn your name and ours, and watched your whole face bloom at the sight of your brother, who often danced for your pleasure. The two of you laughing together is the best sound we have ever heard. We watched you learn to walk, wobbly-legged but determined, somehow neither unsure nor afraid. Even as—ugh--we watched you fall over and over and over into the coffee table, the wall corner, the table leg--the hard, hard head of your Bilger genes (we say, lovingly) growing red and lumpy-sore. Brave girl. Fearless adventurer! You just keep going.
Josephine, to say that we love you is so much less than we really feel. You are the last puzzle piece, the one that has completed the picture of our family. We just don't work without you.
What a year it has been. What a gift and a pure joy you are.
Happy 1st Birthday!
All our love,
Mama, Papa & Rudy
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