Yesterday was my daughter's birthday and I was fortunate to be able to spend the day with her.
While I've struggled a bit trying to balance my new full-time job with my responsibilities at home, I put all of my (extra) energy into making this birthday special for her, which in doing that, actually turned into a week filled with celebrations due to a school day-birthday.
I was very hesitant to plan a formal birthday party due to the complexities of our lives, but hearing her talking about "my birthday party" after attending those of friends this past year and knowing that she's never had a friend-filled party before, I just knew I had to do it for her. And I really am glad I did.
A dance party with friends over the weekend, followed by a birthday filled with school celebrations, a park playdate with the Kindergartener crew, lunch with Auntie S, a shopping spree with Mommy, and sno-cones with Daddy to end the day. Our sweet girl had a smile on her face beginning when she woke up around 5 am until she finally fell asleep cuddling her new stuffies.
To be honest, as exhausted as I felt yesterday, I look back now and think of how normal it actually was, well in terms of birthday celebrations with kids. In a way, it could probably be labeled as a busy day or some as it was filled with adventures outside the home. But for our family, this was far from our normal day as we have adapted to my husband's great need for regimented routines and low stimulating activities. As you can imagine, this is quite an oxymoron for a social and active six-year old girl and therefore, more of a reason to plan these well-suited birthday activities and give her the day that she deserves.
Her birthday obviously caused a lot of nostalgic thinking for me as well, and led me to look back on some of the baby pictures and past birthday celebrations.
Six years ago, we got to hold our baby girl for the first time. As any parent knows, it's the most magical experience and likely impossible to describe in words. I guess you can say that it's just one of those moments in life that you simply cannot prepare yourself for, even if you try, and instead just have to let yourself be present in that moment and embrace all that it is. Due to her birth being a c-section, my husband got to hold her first. And I really am so glad that he did. It is a moment that he will never forget
While life becomes a bit blurry after six years, I really can still picture moments from her big arrival. As we like to still joke about, her first cry was fairly unforgettable (and insanely loud) and I honestly remember saying to my husband how our neighbors in the apartment complex were not going to be happy with us.
Our sweet and loveable baby girl really did have the loudest and most ear-piercing cries, which my brother once perfectly compared to a banshee. (Don't Google search it, for your sake. But if you do, his comparison really is fairly accurate, but fortunately hers wasn't that bad.)
And my husband once shared how he was up one night in the living room of our apartment and heard our twentysomething-year-old neighbors coming home late. He said he heard one person say, "Shhh, there's a kid in there." And then another responding, "Well there kid is f*&%$#@ loud." I love that he heard this, and when he told me all I could do was appreciate them even more for never once complaining, even though I obviously knew how loud my daughter's cries were and feared how it affected our neighbors.
As I reflect back on that time in our lives, probably three or four years ago now, and realize how my daughter's loud cries were a struggle, but they really weren't my biggest problem. For at that time, not many people were aware of the daily struggles and concerning changes that I was seeing in my husband, and how I soon found myself caring for two people in my small apartment instead of having one as an equal partner and hands-on-father that I was very fortunate to once have by my side.
Like any other parent, her birthday reminds me of how much she's grown and the changes that have occurred over the past year. It's truly bittersweet as I miss the younger version of her, but also have such pride in the older girl that he has become. Every year I get to learn more of who she is inside, and see the similarities she shares with my husband and me and how she is truly her own unique self- with dance skills that are definitely not from me.
But with every year, I am also reminded of our family's continued struggles and my husband's own changes. Sometimes when I look back at pictures of the two of them together, I focus more on him and how I barely recognize that guy in the photos anymore, and not just because of the beard he has decided to grow and love. More than anything, he's lost the light in his eyes. Sometimes I still see it, especially when he's engaging with our daughter or having a "good day", but anyone who knows him well is aware of how much he has changed alongside our daughter's changes.
As hard as it is to say, I often think how as she grows up, he continues to regress and lose himself to this disease. But yesterday (and this week) were about her, and realizing just how blessed we are to be her parents and watch as she grows and lives out her own journey.