Kyrie Ruth

To my Kyrie Bug on her 4th birthday -

I can remember four years ago today so clearly. I was so scared - having been admitted to the hospital four days prior. They knew something wasn't right and you weren't due for almost another 5 weeks. When they diagnosed me with HELLP syndrome, the doctor came in with a counselor. Ty and I sat there as they told us our only option was delivery and they needed to know our wishes in case you didn't make it. I couldn't imagine my sweet (and fiesty) baby not coming home with us from the hospital - we were petrified. As they prepared to lifeflight me I remember praying that I would do anything if you would just be okay. As soon as the helicopter landed at a hospital with a NICU (Newborn Intensive Care Unit) I was induced. It took less than thirty minutes and only one push to get you here - but they took you away so fast, I barely got a glimpse. Since they were trying to stabilize both of us, I only got to see a picture for an entire day. Waiting that 24 hours to meet you was almost unbearable. I remember being pushed into the NICU and seeing the most perfect 4 pound 11 oz baby covered in wires and tubes looking at me. I fell in love instantly. Over the next 21 days I barely left the hospital, I wanted to be with you constantly. It was so overwhelming - not only was I a new parent, but you were so tiny. I remember one particular time that you were screaming so hard your face was bright red. I looked at a nurse and asked her what I was supposed to do. I still reflect on her reply all the time - "you're her mommy, you know what to do." We got into a routine together and bonded over feedings every 3 hours. You were so spunky! All the nurses loved to be in charge of you, and they called you "Baby Houdini." By three days old you had already mastered the art of taking your feeding tube out and holding it up for the nurses to see. You were barely over five pounds when we brought you home with special preemie formula and reflux medications. You also had a special monitor in case you forgot to breathe - which you seemed to do often in the NICU to scare the nurses. You only did it once when you came home, but it was enough to scare your Daddy and I to pieces.

You grew so fast, soon you were a toddler and a big sister. You have always been such a great big sister. You covered Savvy with kisses daily and touched her so softly. You have been her protector and friend since the moment you met. Savvy is so lucky to have you looking out for her.

You have always been an artist - expressing yourself through movement and creativity. Even when your rough start in life caused developmental delays, you never stopped trying to grow and conquer the world around you. You excelled at things in your own way, and turned your trials into advantages, something some adults never figure out.

I remember when I was a teenager my parents telling me that some day they hoped I had a child like me so that I would understand what I put them through. If there was ever a mini-me, it is you. I have always loved that I followed my heart and did things my own way, and I know that your life will hold similar experiences. You feel emotions so deeply, and because of that you have so much to give. You are compassionate, mischievious, and full of a love for life.

There is never a day that you don't make me smile and laugh. Your strength and determination are an inspiration to me and I am lucky to be your mother.

I love you.

Mommy