She lies there in my arms, looking up at me, her fat little hand holding my chin, eyes searching mine with a look between contentment and delight.

I breathe in.

How can this baby– this baby who isn’t really a baby anymore, be two already?

So many events race through my mind like a filmstrip come unreeled…. pregnant belly, sushi cravings, arguments over who did the dishes last, first kicks…… hands squeezed tight at the signs of first contractions, the serene agony of labor, the bliss of nursing her for the first time.

It all flashes through me as I hold her, wondering where time goes.

I see the look of horror that must have crossed my face when the nurses announced that I couldn’t bring her home. Long nights sitting alone in various hospital waiting rooms. Elation when we proudly wrapped her up in her car seat and heard the gratifying “click” that we knew meant we were on our way home.

I see first crawls, and first steps, and loooooong nights spent rocking her as she teethed or dealt with fevers from her illness.

I see hospital stays and late night trips to the ER. I see surgeries and medications. I see her first fall, blood spilling from her nose. I see her first hug back, tiny arms squeezing my neck so tight.

I see her first smiles, first coos. First words and successes…. the first time she shook her head “no” at me, and the first time she proudly came running when I called her.

I see her sitting in my arms on the plane ride home from France, looking at me for reassurance when the roar of the engines startled her. I see her sandwhiched in a hug between her brothers and sisters, giggling with glee. I see her dancing and singing “ching ching ching!” as she sword fights with her older brother.

The day her soup made it from the bowl to her spoon to her mouth successfully. The day her toothbrush stopped being a chew toy. The day she learned to turn the sink on by herself…

I breathe out.

Tears splash on her cheeks, spilling from my eyes like tender shoots. She’s my baby.

And now she’s my big girl…. getting bigger every day.

How can two years go by so fast? How can so much happen in two short years?

Looking at her perfectly formed features I am wonder and awe. Breathless before His perfect creation I close my eyes and bow my head in thankfulness. Perfect in her weakness. Perfect in my weakness. Perfect for me. Perfect for us.

I remember the things people said to us when they found out we were having her.

Wow, that’s crazy. You already have your hands full!

You know how that happens, right?

How are you going to do it? You can’t.

That’s irresponsible. You guys need to be done now.

And yet… here she is!

Sighing happily, she snuggles deeper into the crook of my arm, rubbing my elbow with her tiny fingers and sucking her thumb. This is life. Life is a gift. She is a gift.

Thank you, Lord…. I feel your presence wrapped around us both. You are here, guiding us…. one day at a time.