Jovie 9 Months

January was one of the most difficult months of my life. And I am sure it is the most difficult of months that you have endured thus far.

There are milestones to talk about - crawling, clapping, pulling up, and new words... But, by far, the biggest thing that happened this month was your trip to Children's Mercy Hospital. Less like a trip and more like a stay-cation. It has been documented elsewhere and I will make sure it is there for you to read, should you choose to do so. I won't be recounting it here.

However, I will tell you how proud I am of you. There were some really rough and very scary moments when we were there together. While I am thankful to have such an amazing facility to take care of my babies, I was sad to have to take you there. The virus you were fighting took so much more than your breath away. It took away your laugh and you bubbling babbles. It stole your sparkle- I never realized how amazing and precious (and taken for granted) your mannerisms are. When they were gone, my heart choked on the silence. I just held you and we rocked and I sang to you, and you slept.

When things started to clear up, your voice came back- Though still a bit hoarse from the treatments you endured, your sparkle came flooding back in a wave of new discoveries.

Just before we entered the hospital, you were starting to crawl. It is/was an odd "tripod" style crawl, best described as a hybridization of crawling and elephant walking. Then you got sick and it disappeared. You could only do so much with that IV in your arm. But you did learn to pull up, and you started clapping and saying "YAY!"

When we got home, as things got back to normal and we thought we were in the clear, we sent your sister back to preschool and you got a cold. A cold which turned into pneumonia. GUH. Double GUH. Thankfully we were able to keep you out of the hospital this time and I was able to stay home and take care of you. At this point it will probably be spring before you are completely healed. All of these damned viruses are wreaking havoc on your precious little lungs.

At this point you are still struggling some. I hope to see the light soon, and I hope to never have to see you in one of those little hospital cribs ever again.

I am amazed by your resilience. How, just days after you were covered in wires and tubes and barely able to move that you were all of a sudden playing and clapping, smiling and laughing. Oh that laugh.

Your laugh is not unlike your sister's. In fact if I close my eyes, I can barely tell your giggles apart. Do you realize how wonderful it is to have a houseful of beautiful curly haired babies with laughter that fizzes and pops like champagne? Do you know how amazing it is to have 2 daughters??? Do you know how lucky I feel? I had all those brothers- a stinky band of brothers not terribly interested in things of the girl. You and your sister are my reward.

My most amazing reward. Hot damn, I am lucky.