My beloved
little princess, has one year really passed already since the day you were born
into this world? The day I stood at your mommy's side, so humbled by and
proud of her courage throughout a long night of labour...the day I gazed in
awestruck wonder through tear filled eyes as the life we had created and
watched take shape in her belly for so long actually materialized before us, in
flesh and blood...the day I first saw you upon mommy's breast, clumsily exploring
your instinct to feed from her nourishment...the day I first saw you wearing
your tiny outfit with tiny hat, swaddled in a tiny blanket, eyes closed in
peaceful rest as you took a break from what must have been a traumatically
transformational day...the day I left you and mommy to bond at the hospital as
I went home to sleep, knowing all the while I likely couldn't and wouldn't, yet
not knowing what else to do with myself.
Yet perhaps a
year is not so long, for on reflection it seems like a different lifetime ago.
The day I drove more slowly and carefully than ever before as we carefully,
gingerly brought you home from the hospital, perhaps afraid of even exposing
you to the outside air...the day we brought you into the house, safely shut the
front door behind us, put our stuff down, and beheld you laying there before
our eyes...what to do now? All the baby books and articles in the world that
mommy poured through during pregnancy, and that daddy didn't (but had related
in copious detail from mommy) in preparation for your coming now seemed
woefully inadequate to address this simple question at such a surreal moment.
And yet life
goes on. As you learned the beginnings of how to live on this earth over the
ensuing few weeks, we learned the beginnings of how to be parents to you, each
of us feeling our way forward simply by doing. I'll be honest, my little
love, I felt a little shell-shocked...Seeing mommy standing there holding you
and sobbing, as you screamed and cried yourself purple in the face, feeling a
bit helpless to help either of you...other than to call our nurse and relate
how something must be terribly wrong, as our baby keeps crying...or to relate
how something must be terribly wrong, as we can't get you to burp...or to
relate how something must be terribly wrong, as you keep spitting up your
milk!
I suppose, in
the midst of what now seems like such silly anxiety, I was just desperate to do
this right, to be a good and loving daddy, to make sure you have a good life
from the very beginning...for You deserve no less, and I already knew that you
have the best, most loving, most caring, most nurturing, most kind-hearted
mommy in the world. You see, the both of you are God's answer to what was
once my greatest of life prayers...to be a husband and a father, to have and
take care of a beautiful family of my own. Yet with realization of such a
dream comes great felt responsibility, to protect and provide and help create a
place of thriving growth and life prosperity. And by God's grace, He has done
so through me over the past year, even as I have felt at times clumsy,
ignorant, desperate, thoughtless, or otherwise inadequate. What He sees,
however, is not such faults, but rather the perfection that I love you with my
very life, and that I am here for you above all else.
My little love,
perhaps life's greatest journey is in fact learning to increasingly see as God
sees. And your life over the past year has been a powerful testimony of this
for me. While I have seen (and heard) seemingly constant whining from you
to be held and paid attention to, God has revealed to me the truth of your
desire to love, to be loved, and to be held close...and really what is there in
life that could be more important than this?
While I have
seen (and smelled) seemingly endless poop and vomit coming from you, God has
revealed to me the truth of your well-functioning body, hearty appetite, and
good health...something for which I am so grateful.
While I have
seen (and felt) the exhaustion of holding you in my arms and trying to get you
to go back to sleep at 2 in the morning, God has revealed to me the
preciousness of such moments, that are passing by all too fast toward a day
when you have grown and I will no longer be able to hold you like that.
While I have
seen (and heard) your frequent cries of distress, discomfort or otherwise
general unhappiness, God has revealed to me the truth of the joy of your
laughter and delight when I tickle you or hold you upside down or spin you
around or play peek-a-boo with you.
While I have
seen (and gasped over) the tornado of messiness that inevitably follows in the
wake of wherever you have recently played, God has revealed to me the truth of
your innate desire for joy, fun and adventure in life.
While I have
seen (and stressed over) the gravity that seemingly pulls you toward all things
potentially dangerous in the house, particularly those devices electrical in
nature, God has revealed to me the truth of your innate curiosity to explore
and discover His many mysteries.
While I have
seen (and dreaded cleaning) an utter mess of oatmeal, prunes and/or peas all
over your hands and face and hair and clothes and chair, God has revealed to me
the truth of the joyous beauty of your gap toothed grin in the middle of it
all.
While I have
seen (and heard) your loud, excited exclamations in the middle of a quiet,
tender moment in church, God has revealed to me the truth of these glorious
beginnings of your speech, which shall one day resound with love, power and
poetic articulation as you bring His beauty to the ears of a world in desperate
need of knowing it.
While I have
seen (and felt) your heart-wrenching cries when first left at home in the care
of a nanny, God has revealed to me the truth of your heart-stirring quick
breaths of thrill and excitement as we put you on your "ride'm
cowboy" horse or carry you out the door of our home on an adventure,
destination unbeknownst to you and not even mattering.
And while I have
seen (and felt) your seemingly ceaseless squirming and constant restless
movement while I try to hold you close, God has revealed to me the truth of the
tender beauty in those moments when you simply rest in my arms, your head with
its myriad of curls upon my chest as if you are listening to and dwelling within
my heart beat.
Do you hear it,
my little love? Do you hear daddy's heart beat? It is the very life that
God gives me. It beats for mommy. It beats for you.
Happy first
birthday, my gorgeous little girl, I love you with all I am, and am so grateful
for this journey we are all living out together. Being your father is a
reward and privilege like none I've ever known. Perhaps one day in our
future I shall sit with you in 3D...on a daddy-daughter date...and relate with
you the bitter-sweetness of joyfully anticipating all stages of your growth and
development yet to unfold, while simultaneously wishing none of it to pass, for
therein it will be gone forever.
God bless you,
Lil' Miss Olivia Lilitha Worley, God bless you with your every heart desire.
I love you.
