TEN?

Ten years ago I was in a hospital room with my incredible husband, my lovely pregnant nurse Heather, and a midwife I'd just barely met (since we'd just moved to Portland three weeks earlier) finally meeting my daughter after 36 hours of labor (I'm not being a martyr--24 hours of those were considered "early labor," and they probably don't really count, but I was excited! And timing all of them! And wondering why this was taking so damn long?!)

I still remember holding that beautiful bundle of baby girl, searching her eyes and wondering "Who are you?"

She was the wiggliest baby in utero. No really she was. More than any of yours. I promise. I remember sitting at my desk at Paramount Title and her kicking me so hard her kicks would hit the edge of my desk and bruise my belly. Being the good first-time mama I was, I would time her kicks to make sure I was feeling her move 10 times an hour like the book said I should. I kept little tick marks on my desk calendar for every time I felt her move--she averaged over 25 moves per hour, and they weren't just little kicks. (Amelia was queen of gentle movements, so I know the difference. And yes, Amelia was much more gentle than any of your kids. My kids excel at everything.). After she was born, Madeline would cross her legs at the ankle and constantly kick-kick-kick from the fetal position to full extension and I could finally see what had been causing all the commotion in my belly.

And oh my lord, her head. It was the most beautifully shaped baby head in all of the history of baby heads. After the cone went away. And it went away in record time. Because she was my first-born child and she was PERFECT and AMAZING in every way.

And now she's 10. Ten years old. How did that happen???? I have no idea, but it did. And now she's still the most perfect, amazing, incredible, entertaining 10 year-old who ever graced the Earth. No really, she is. Stop arguing with me.

More photos tomorrow. She was born pre-digital camera, which means I have to scan....so old school!