A Year of Harper (Minus Fifteen or So Minutes)

Did you know you have a brother named Lucas

And a sister who's a kitty named Sunshine

They're both gonna love you

Take good care of you

Little Harper, you'll do just fine

Little Harper, you'll do just fine....

I call that Harper's lullaby.  I wrote it for you, and sang it to you, in the hospital when you were born.  We still sing it at almost every nap time and most every night.

You are something else.  Sweet and sassy.  Independent and stubborn.  We may not have been expecting you, but you have perfectly completed our family.

One of my favorite memories of your first year is (and will always be)  lying on the couch before work, you beside me, your head resting on my upper arm.  And virtually every night, we would fall asleep together for a little while before I had to get up and get ready to work the midnight shift.

I guess a parent is supposed to calm their child.  But you would always calm me on those nights.  I cannot wait to see what the next year brings and yet, I know it is all going to go so fast... 

You got here in a hurry, Harper.  So fast I missed it.  Your mother texted at 8:31 that morning.  "You need to get here now."  Despite my best efforts and violating numerous traffic laws along the way (my apologies to all the drivers I offended that morning), I didn't make it.

When I walked into the hospital room, there was no doctor, no nurses.  There was only your mother, with your tiny head resting peacefully on her chest.  

I thought I would be upset for missing it.  But in that instant, how could I do anything but smile?  You were here.  You were healthy.   Your mother was healthy.  I am still smiling thinking about it now.

I may have missed those first few moments, Harper Cassandra.  But long as I live, I don't plan on missing anymore.