One of the many things you will learn about me as you get older is that I have a very unique memory. By this I mean that I’ll leave my apartment to go to school with my backpack…which will be empty because I forgot to actually put my books in it; but I’ll remember that I met one of my best friends, your Aunt S, at 11:30 a.m. on August 18, 2005. Go figure.
My stellar ability to remember dates is intensified by a thousand when it comes to you. I think it just comes with the parent territory – we’re just so excited to see you grow and watch you learn, and we’re always so proud when you do. We start creating mental scrapbooks the first day you so much as smile. As a result, all of your big, “milestone” moments are time stamped in my mind.
I found out about you on December 22, 2009 around noon at my doctor’s office.
I first felt you kick on Valentine’s Day 2010.
I found out you were a boy on March 16, 2010 at ten in the morning.
I went into labor with you at 7 a.m. on July 22, 2010.
You were born at 5:41 p.m. later that day (7 lbs, 6 oz, 19.25 inches long).
Your adoption was official (or as The B’s call it, “Gotcha Day”) on August 2, 2010.
I first heard you laugh on November 20, 2010.
I first saw you crawl on April 2, 2011.
The first word I heard you say was “da-da.”
I saw you walk for the first time the day after your first birthday – you took four steps in a row, and as soon as you realized you were on your own, you plopped to floor as a myriad of your family members (myself included) gave you a huge round of applause.
When you were tiny, I used to wish that you’d stay small forever, but I’m having so much fun watching you grow and learn that I take it back (although I do occasionally miss the days where I could hold you and you couldn’t do anything about it). Watching you feel your way through the world is the most fun, entertaining thing I think I’ve ever witnessed. And the best part is, as you learn about yourself, I learn about you too.
But what I want you to know is that I think all of the things you do are important. From the little things, like learning to play with toys, to the big stuff – every milestone you reach, every achievement you make, even the ones you fall short of but tried to do anyways – I treasure every single one. Every second I spend with you is a special one to me and I’m sorry that I’m not always around it witness all of the seconds in between. I wish I could be.
That was a big deal to me back when I was weighing the pros and cons of adoption – I was so afraid of all the growing up you would do when I wasn’t around. I was so afraid of what I was going to miss – the cute, funny little things, the bruises or cuts I wasn’t going to be able to kiss, the milestones you were going to hit that I would only hear about after the fact, if I was lucky.
It just so happens that I am lucky. Your parents are experts at keeping me caught up with you. When something big happens, I get a text from J, which is generally soon followed by a picture and then a video from E. I will never be able to thank them enough for doing things like that for me. But that’s one of the many reasons I knew they’d be wonderful parents to you – because they think that every milestone and every achievement and every other little thing you do is just as important as I do.
You are special, my Little Man, and don’t you forget it. Because even if you do, I’m going to have record books full to remind you with.