Tomorrow Malli turns two. Every year on my birthday, my mother says “x years ago today…” and then launches into the story of the day I was born. Actually, the story starts six days before my birthday and then counts each long overdue day until she shook my dad awake at 3am and said it’s time to go. My Malli was right on time – born on the evening of his due date. It’s odd to write Malli’s story before Akka’s when she was born first. I’ll have to remember to do this again in June. Malli: two years ago tonight, I thought you were going to be born, but you weren’t ready to come out yet. You were waiting for next day to be born. Our midwives, who had almost missed Akka’s birth, came early this time. Just like your sister, you were in a big hurry to get out, and after some quick moves, with one midwife still running up the stairs, there you were:
The midwives weighed you in a sling. You weighed 8 lbs 3 oz.
You were perfect and beautiful and a little bit funny looking, as all new babies are.
Two hours after you were born, your sister came home to meet you. She said “oh, a baby.” She took off your mittens and put them on herself.
The next morning we all went downstairs and Akka taught you a few things about cars and trucks:
Then we all just hung out in bed for a few days while other people brought us things.
You were much smaller than you are now. You couldn’t walk or talk or do somersaults or help me shovel snow or any of the other amazing things you’ve learned to do in two short years.
Happy Birthday Malli!