One year. 365 days. 8,760 hours. 525,600 minutes.

You came into our world in the most unexpected and traumatic way. You weren’t ready for the world, but kind, smart, loving people scooped you up and allowed you to finish growing in a way my body couldn’t.

When you came home from the hospital after 19 days in the NICU, we weren’t sure what to do. You were so tiny, so fragile, yet, at not even 6 pounds, so resilient and strong. We were in awe of you. We still are.

You rarely even opened your eyes for the first two months we had you. Today, those beautiful blue eyes shine with love, energy and what I’m quite sure are mischievous thoughts. They don’t miss a thing.

You love meal time. You love splashing in the bathtub and swimming pool. But you hate getting dried off, diapered and dressed afterward. You feel your emotions strongly — you have a temper but you smile and laugh more easily than any baby I’ve ever met. It’s a beautiful sound.

You love your parents dearly. You wave bye bye to your dada when he drops you off at your sitter. You squeal with joy and crawl over for a hug when your mama walks into a room.

You’ve taken our world by storm in the past year. We’ve watched you grow from the tiny baby into the toddler you are today. You are transitioning from super baby to super toddler.

We are infinitely proud of who you are and so proud to call you our son. We are awed by the responsibility of raising you into the little boy and, eventually, young man you are becoming. We love you infinity.