It is officially the 6th. Tomorrow, the 7th, my daughter officially turns 1 year old 😢 Where has the…

It is officially the 6th. Tomorrow, the 7th, my daughter officially turns 1 year old 😢 Where has the time gone? It feels like just yesterday I was begging her to come already. It feels like just yesterday I was contracting in the kitchen while scarfing down pizza, waiting for my mom to get home so we could go in to be admitted. It feels like just yesterday I was in the hospital bed, frantically kicking my legs and wriggling, trying to run away from the pain of contractions and the annoying blabbering of the nurse. It feels like just yesterday I was telling the nurses and security guard to not let people know I was there and admitted, and to not let anyone in unless on the approval list. It feels like just yesterday the doctor rushed in, pissed at the nurse, trying to whisper that OR would need to be on standby because the nurse never informed her of your decreasing heart rate, where I had a whole hand up my vaginal cavity to loosen the cord that was tightening around your neck. It feels like just yesterday the doctor broke my water at an 8 and told me it'd hurt like hell but I needed to wait a few minutes and then push....she got the cord off your neck and told me I needed to push. It feels like just yesterday I couldn't see or breathe on the table while pushing, only to have 3 different sets of forceps inserted to help pull you free because you got stuck in the canal and the nurse wasn't cooperating or hurrying. It feels like just yesterday I heard the nurse and OR standby doctor talking about how I did good, didn't scream, etc, but how they had to get you breathing and me stitched because you swallowed meconium and had bruising around your neck, face, and head from birth and weren't the right color and I was bleeding too much and had internal tearing as well as external and wasn't coherent. Half an hour later, after I was stitched and in and out of consciousness, you were laid on my chest and started suckling away. The morning nurse, who's shift started halfway through my labor and who helped me breathe and stood in my way from seeing you, congratulated me and told me how she saw the labor, from her eyes. You were pure perfection, sweet and comforting bliss, the light that lit up my world the second I saw you. You were born at 8:20 in the morning exactly, 40 minutes after they broke my water, 8 and a half hours after I started contracting. You were worth every second of pain, every second of healing, every sleepless night. You were worth every fear I had, and you made me realize I will fight for you, no matter what, and I will never stop loving you. In one day you will be one. In that year of life so far, you've accomplished so much and you make momma so proud. I'm honored and blessed to be your mom and I will let nothing hurt you or stop you from achieving more great things in life.