Ella is 4! (alternately titled: where did the time go?!)

Ella is 4! At this time 4 years ago, I think I was just going from the delivery room to my room (she was born at 9:50 am). I was exhausted from being in labor all night. I know I was swollen from the 12 hours of IV fluids. I was sore for obvious reasons. And I think I was a bit in shock and feeling overwhelmed. And *hungry.* That meal of french toast will remain in my memory as the best meal EVER.

Ella was tiny. I mean, she was normal, full-term. But she was a small 6 lbs 14 oz. And when the doctor put this squalling, slimy, tiny person on my stomach, I didn't have a clue what to do with her. I was so relieved that the labor and delivery was over but kinda felt like, "well, now what do we do?" She was born on a Sunday morning and we didn't go home until Tuesday evening. There wasn't a single issue, but we were a bit scared to take her home and take care of her ourselves. I was a total newbie in this situation. I think the newest baby I'd held was at least a week old. I was 5 when Leslie was born and didn't have any nieces or nephews. None of our close friends had kids yet. Steve had more experience, what with having had two siblings born when he was in high school. I leaned on him a lot that first week.

The day that Steve went back to work, I was terrified. In a lot of ways, that was the day I feel like I really had to step up and be a parent. I couldn't hand her off to someone else. I was solely responsible for her. As a result, I don't think I ate or used the bathroom more than once that day. I don't think I put her down other than to change her diaper. I remember her sleeping on my lap and all of a sudden my lap was hot and wet. I'm not sure why, but I was absolutely convinced I'd lift her up to find my lap full of blood. It wasn't. Her diaper had just leaked all over me. But my mom called me back shortly after that and I just sobbed. New mom fears and post-partum hormones paired together are a horrible thing.

Things got easier. I realized I could put her down. When she got fussy, I'd pack her into the car seat and we'd go drive. Overall she was a happy, easy baby. She slept well, which helped immensely (lack of sleep is my kryptonite). Each new stage was a bit easier, while also bringing new challenges. Life got busier, we moved, new babies came, and all of a sudden Ella is 4. She long ago gave her her bottle, her pacifier, and her crib. She's even given up her toddler bed and diapers. She knows all kinds of things. She can count to 20 (although a few of those teens trip her up). She knows all her shapes and colors and most of her letters and numbers. She can even spell a few words. She can build impressive towers and run and jump and kick a ball. She tells jokes and sings songs and tries to cheer up her sisters when they cry. She's usually moving and always talking. At some point, my tiny baby grew up into this little person. I'm so proud of this little person Ella has become, but it's a little bittersweet. When someone tells me she'll be driving, in college, married with kids of her own before I know it, I believe it. Look how much she's grown already.
A few hours old.

A few days old.

One year old.

Two.

Three.

My big four year old.