Dear Beautiful Boy,
But now, today, you are two and I'm pretty sure that we won't be referring to you in months again. No one says a child is twenty-six or thirty-one months old, from here on in you will be two, two-and-a-half, nearly three and so on. From today, your baby status disappears...well for most people perhaps. For me, you will always be my baby, even when you're far too old to be referred to this way and are in fact acutely embarrassed to be referred to as my baby. Just so you know though, that won't stop me; you are now and you always will be my baby. At least I've given you fair warning about that fact.
We have spent the morning with you opening presents and laughing as you push your brand new pram around the house, saying "Herro!" each time you enter a room and "Buyeee!" as you leave it. Your Dad is still convinced that a pram is most definitely a girl's present and so is "hurrumphing" in the corner as he watches you have so much fun with it, but it is most definitely THE present of your birthday (see, Mummy really does know best - remember that!). If we dare take you away from it, even to take you to MacDonald's for lunch, we are met with howls of sheer outrage. "It is MY pram and I am PLAYING with it - GO AWAY!" It really is quite adorably funny.
You've spent time with Nanny and Grandad, Mrs Godmummy and Auntie Jenni and have accepted some of the presents rather more graciously than others. Your evident delight over Mrs Godmummy's teaset was very cute while your utter disdain for Auntie Jenni's clothes was outright hilarious - particularly the moment when Daddy tried to get you interested by putting the semi-wrapped parcel in your pram and you looked at it in disgust and dumped it out again before marching off shouting at us.
But now that you are safely tucked up in bed, I can't help but think of how far we've come. At lunchtime today, your Dad asked me how I was. It wasn't a random question. He wanted to know if I was ok or if I was revisiting memories of two years ago when you lay in hospital fighting for your life. But I could in all honesty say that I'm fine. I haven't been reliving those memories (well I guess until now when I'm writing about it!) today is just a celebration of you and of how much we love you. I'm actually quite relieved about that because last year was very different. We spent days reliving where we were and when; but this year, it's about today, here and now and how much you've grown.
It is a given that you are incredibly precious to me, I know that any mother's son is. But secretly, I think you're even more precious simply because of what your life means. When I look at you, hearing your cheerful giggle or even your howl of outrage, I know that this is precious because we came so close to not hearing those things; so frighteningly close to commemorating your birthday rather than celebrating it. But, no matter what the doctors said, you were (and are) a fighter and I am so grateful for that. I truly thank God that for all the pain of illness that we have experienced in your two short years of life, that we have also experienced so much laughter and joy and love, simply because you are here.
I love you my darling, I hope you will always be certain of that fact.
Happy Birthday Baby,