What will this day be like.....I wonder....

It is 6am but the house is still beautifully quiet. Oh sometimes these mornings are the best way to start a day. No matter the tossing and turning and cramping all night, this quiet sunrise is a blessing and I know that this particular blessing is numbered, at least for a short while, but that is okay with me. As my anxieties turn to excitement and the day we are waiting for arrives so soon, all I can do is look around and be grateful for all we have. Samara is ready for a little brother or sister. We have spent the last few weeks visiting some dear friends already blessed with their dear versions of D2 and it has been good for us both. She has oodled over the little toes, just as I have. She has stroked the velvet heads, marveled at the perfect pianist fingers, giggled at the goofy stares. We have watched in awe as the little ones have slept through teddy-plonks on the head and toddler-tantrums, and been awestruck at the patience and goodness of these 23+/- month old superstars who understand that their formerly joined at the hip best friend no longer has a TUUUUUUUMMMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, as Samara has liked to tell the world, but one more best friend who may occasionally delay story-time, demand feeding, cry a lot and slow us down. I don't know for sure how Samara is going to be. I know there will be moments of nostalgia, moments of frustration, moments of utter exhaustion, but I look into her sweet and loving eyes and see that she is ready. A month or two ago, I wasn't so sure, but this morning, as I sit between the beloved weekend days, a blessed time it has been of washing her old baby clothes, getting things done, seeing lovely friends, spending each moment with our gorgeous girl, I think we are actually more ready than not. And today, I want to take it all in. Not what lies ahead, not the blessing of siblings, the wonder of a tiny one, the miracle that is awaiting us, I want to take her in. My gift from God, my feisty, spunky, run-so-fast, laugh-so-loud, hug-so-strong, care-so-deeply first born who today will not be seen as the soon-to-be big sister, but just my little girl. As we approach her 2nd birthday, she has been all we've thought about for three years, even longer, and every single day she still makes my belly hurt, tilts my head sideways, has me stretch into crazy pilate-queen positions, and leads me to feel oh so full of worth. So many months of such deep and hearty sentiments and we're still getting stronger. That says a lot. I can just watch her to no end, marveling at her commitment, joy and sense of humor. She is independent and strong-willed, the life of a party and always more inclined to laugh and jump and sing than anyone else, she has fun that makes life bold, tricks that make us stutter, and a warmth she exudes naturally, but not without warrant. She is shy in some company, and loyal to no end. She loves holding hands, loves to cuddle, loves to be crazy with me. How many people have I known my whole life who'd say such things about me? I want to be like her. She and I work so well together. The more time we have each day, the more I want that day to never end. And at last summer is here. The endless, diaper-free, beach at any hour, sunny, perfect days we dream of all year long. I want to keep her like this forever, my little star, my surprise pick-me-up, my reason to be more than I am, but maybe, probably, I have this feeling, I don't have to. This is not fleeting. This is no fluke. We have been told oh so many times, 'you hit the jackpot with this one' and we know that is right. And don't you think, well I just have a feeling, the best is yet to be. Sammy D... you make me feel like dancing!