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Dear Issie, I vividly remember the day you were born. I remember arriving at the hospital in the wee small hours of the morning; knowing that soon you would be here.

I remember the waiting, the praying. I remember the nurse putting you on my chest and seeing your sweet round face for the first time.

Your eyes were open the first time I saw you, your little lip poking out in a heartbreaking pout. I should have known then you were going to give me a run for my money. This year has not always been easy, little one. The road to 1 has been paved with exhaustion, frustration and fatigue.

But there has been such great joy.

I wanted a little red-haired boy to toddle after my little blonde boy. And I got you. I got my sweet Issie. You are stubborn and tough and opinionated. As your mother that has frustrated me. But I hope, when you are older, you remain stubborn and tough and opinionated.

You have frightened me with your budding since of exploration and adventure. You have gone places I didn’t want you to go. But I hope as you grow, you keep that since of adventure and that natural curiosity.

You have always had a big appetite. In the beginning it kept me exhausted. But now you love to taste new foods, try new textures. You are unafraid.

I hope you keep an appetite for life and a willingness to try new things. I watched as you sat, crawled, stood and walked earlier than I expected. I watched as you stumbled, fell and wobbled. And I watched my little fledgling get up and try again.

I hope that you will always try, even when life knocks you down. I hope you will always scoop yourself up and keep walking.

I have heard you giggle in your sleep, laugh at birds and chuckle with your brother.

I hope you always find the joy in the moment. I have, on nights that seemed endless, when I barely had the energy to breath, carried you down a dark hallway and prayed over you.

I pray that when your own life seems dark, and you have no more strength that you too will lift up your voice in prayer. As much as I love you, little one, God loves you more. I am your mother, but He is your heavenly father. I have hopes for you, but He has a plan for your life.  Before you were born I felt you kick and move, but He knew you, He knit you together. I have combed your red hair, but he has numbered those hairs.

He has given me a precious gift. The beat of my very heart. And that gift, is you.