Some First Birthday Thoughts

Incredibly, today is Sophia's first birthday. I can't decide if it seems like the day came up too fast or too slow, or if a year seems reasonable given all that's changed. I think it's a little like pregnancy. Time seemed slow for a very long time, and then all of a sudden the big day is here and I'm scrambling to get all that time back. How is it that a year has gone by already?
Today has been a day for reflection. One of my favorite games is "This Time Last Year." Especially for the last couple of weeks I've been enjoying remembering things like, "this time last year Travis and I stayed up until 2am watching disney movies." These days I would NEVER EVER waste an opportunity to sleep with Disney movies! On the 4th of July I enjoyed remembering that, on the 4th last year, Travis and I spent the day lounging in the sand at Detroit Lakes. And my water broke (not that I knew it until the 7th!). Of course, today has been the most wonderful and melancholy day to play "This Time Last Year." It was the end of one wonderful life that I had built with Travis, and the beginning of a new life that included our child.
Right now, as I'm typing this, I can remember "This Very Moment Last Year." Nine PM on July 8th. Our last visitors had just left, and Travis had taken a swaddling blanket and gone home to tend to the dogs and let the animals smell the blanket. I was left alone with Sophia for the first time. I remember how relieved I felt. I remember Travis worrying about me being alone with her, and saying that he wished his parents had stayed while he ran back to the house. I remember feeling grateful that he hadn't asked his parents to stay. I was so grateful to sit quietly in that big room in front of the huge windows with all of Fargo laid out in front of me, holding Sophia. For the first time I got her to nurse with nobody around to watch me and make sure I was doing it right. I felt the thrill of providing for her; of feeding her myself. I remember holding her warm, soft head cupped in my hand and stroking her downy cheek with my thumb. I remember her little fingers curling loosely around my index finger. Mostly, I remember the silence. The relief. The meditation involved with feeling all the warmth and softness of my new baby without any other distractions.
There are a lot of things I've been thinking about writing today, and I'm sure I'll put some lists and more thoughts on the blog later, because today is a big day and it means a lot of things. But I think for right now I'll leave this post here, with a single moment instead of all the lists of other things. Maybe every year at 9pm on the 8th of July I'll be able to be quiet and think. To wonder how I'm feeling as a mother, to examine what Sophia means to me. To fall in love completely and quietly, over and over again.