Kensie's 3rd Birthday

Sweet Kensie's life is so intertwined with Nick's for me.  I was 6 months pregnant with her when Nick was diagnosed.  Even my labor induction with her was scheduled around Nick's in-patient chemo.  Before she was too mobile, I used to bring her with us to the hospital with Nick because he said "I like it better when she's here."  When she first learned how to give kisses, she couldn't stop herself.  She kissed everyone...frequently.  Her "Kensie Kisses" brought light and love to rooms filled with poison and fear. 

Today, Kensie turned 3.  I was prepared to reminisce.  Like when we were remembering how she stopped breathing--twice--during her first day of life and had to spend the night in the nursery for observation.  Or when we were looking at her newborn photos and the photos of her second birthday.  I think every mom feels a little melancholy over how fast time flies when their little ones have a birthday or graduation or wedding or whatever milestone they reach that punctuates how these babies grow up and away far faster than a mother would like.

When Kensie has a birthday, my mind jumps right back to where we were when she was born.  Being pregnant, her low amniotic fluid, her birth, having a newborn to love and care for...They were all concepts that I couldn't fully grasp at the time.  My whole heart.  My whole head.  My whole being was dedicated to Nick.  I wish she had been born to a mother who could plan a layette and buy make a scrapbook and clean the house to nest for her.  Despite having 8 children before her, the experience of pregnancy felt foreign and surreal. 

Even though I feel guilt and loss for not fully appreciating her pregnancy and early days, she never noticed a thing.  She burst into the world full of love and spunk and life.  She embraced us and supported us, all of us--but especially Nick, innocently and passionately.  I can't think about Kensie at any stage of her life and not laugh...She is such a spark plug and brings our family so much energy and joy.

Drifting back in time made me remember the baby clothes and gifts people gave us for Kensie before she arrived.  Which made me remember the garage sale our school friends organized to benefit our family.  Which made me remember the t-shirts one of the parents made for the event.  Which made me remember the kids who shaved their heads...some over and over...to support Nick as he lost his hair to radiation and chemo.  Mostly, I am always amazed that these parents allowed, and probably even pushed, their kids to support Nick...play with him...embrace him...At a time when many would run away.  I imagine there was fear for these families that Nick would die, and the closer their child was to him, the more that would damage their own child.  But these friends and their parents didn't flinch.  One family in particular shaved their sons hair over and over again all through treatment and beyond.  They came to the hospital and took Nick on vacation with them.  They drew him closer during treatment and continue to hold him close today.  I feel that so deeply...that kindness...It overwhelms me sometimes. 

Remembering the bittersweet early months of her life is leaving me a little raw.  I hate to remember the fear and the pain and the anger that took over my heart while Nick was in treatment.  I hate to remember that Nick was sick.  I hate to remember that Nick could get sick again.

But the joy, the light.  I hold onto that today and every day of  Kensie's life.  That is Kensie's gift, our gift.  Love.  Hope.  Grace. I will never fully understand God's plan, but I celebrate Kensie's birthday and her life with a grateful heart--sentimental and wounded--but very grateful. 

Happy Birthday Kensie Rosie Baby!