Today is my anniversary.
We've been through valleys, yes but also hills. Hills and mountains so high you feel you own the world, only to drop so low you can't see the light at the top. You have faith that it exists. You just can't see it.
In all our years together the worst thing we've been through is the agony and torment of watching helplessly as our three and a half hour old firstborn baby girl died in my arms. Six months earlier we mourned our very first baby. My very first pregnancy ended after only seven short weeks.
The best things we've been through are, well, some of the same things but more. Many more. The first pregnancy. I NEVER thought I would experience what it felt like to be pregnant. I was so grateful. My second pregnancy too. So grateful and so, so scared. Thanking God every time I threw up. Thanking him for every minute of everything about it. Even after she had died I remember being so thankful that I had the chance to experience morning (all day) sickness, feeling her move inside of me, giving birth, the instant, unconditional love that surrounds and overwhelms you when you hold your baby in your arms for the first time, even lactating for two weeks after. My third pregnancy with a live, healthy, take home baby at the end. The days we met, and the days we adopted our older children. Though none were infants, the dreams we had of giving them a life out of 'the system', of being a real, a normal family. The soft and beautiful and carefree days we spent in fun and laughter as a family. The nights we spent in passionate love. Our faith, our love and our hope.
Happy anniversary Mr. C, I love you!