We celebrated how she came into our lives and has changed our world. We marveled at how she's grown and who she has become. We wondered what might yet be in store for her.
These are the things we do as parents.
Each year, when I lay down to sleep on their birthdays...I cry. Just a little. Just enough to mark that one more year has passed, that they have grown in ways I couldn't have imagined the year before. That they are becoming, with every moment, who God made them.
And in recent months, Dancer has become fascinated with the story of how she was born. She wants to know what she looked like, what I thought when I saw her, etc. She seems to love the part of the story where I completely unwrapped her swaddling to count all her fingers and toes. I cried then, too. I cried at how something so arduous and crazy and beautiful could result in this perfect little person I now held in my arms.
In that moment, I understood perfect love. She cannot damage it, lose it, break it. She is mine - and she is wonderful.
Praise God for the beautiful blessing of each of my children, the first of whom was Dancer.