Three years ago this morning Abby was born.

As I was wheeled into the very cold operating room my doctor introduced me to the attending pediatrician, a man who once told me I could lose 50 pounds if I just stopped eating like a pig and cut out pop (yes, pop, I’m from Minnesota, dammit) without considering I might have thyroid issues. He didn’t remember me, but remembered Emma who had brought us all together when she swallowed a nickel. I am still working on losing those 50 pounds, but this is a story about Abby.

As I shimmied my way from the hospital bed to the operating table my doctor told the room of nurses, doctors and anesthesiologists my story. My story of loss and weird genetics.

I got pregnant the first time I dipped my toes into the land of infertility, thus pissing off any infertile who should happen upon my little blog. Because of my Rh issues I was still automatically considered high risk (but not really high risk). Monthly perinatal appointments and MCA dopple measurements as we watched little Abby grow inside.

Everything looked perfect, but both James and I were still nervous. We knew the absolute worst that could happen and worried that by some freak of nature it could happen again. When Abby was born she let out a cry and James and I cried as well. Ethan never cried, that I could remember, and so hearing Abby’s cries let me know that everything was going to be OK.

When James finally got enough courage to stand up and not look at my insides all cut open before him, he made it over to the corner where Abby was beign cleaned up. I asked how she looked and he replied, “She’s SO big!” At just over 7 pounds she was much bigger than our 4 pound Ethan but to everyone else she was just an average baby. My doctor reassured me that she was perfect and told me how happy he was for us as tears rolled off the sides of my face.

Abby amazed me that day and she’s managed to amaze me nearly every day since. After I returned home from Minneapolis I was met with a full blown little girl. Gone was the little toddler who kept me company while I was on bed rest at home.

Tonight we will have chocolate pancakes and bacon for dinner. For dessert we’ll finish off the Abby Cadabby cake she had for her party on Saturday. Tomorrow we’ll start inching closer and closer to four. All the while I will keep wishing I could freeze time for just a little while.

Happy Birthday, Abigail.