girl.

How...how are you 4 years old?

You were just born. I was just standing in the corner of that hospital room with the sun pouring in, watching you come into the world on that cold November 8th.  

Just a minute ago, I was holding your warm, snuggly little 3-pound body on my chest, while your mother had to continually reassure me that you wouldn't break and that no, I wasn't holding you too tightly.

NICU...5 weeks.

No. My mind is playing tricks on me, dear girl. You weren't just born...no. That's just silliness. You're not a baby, you're a big 4-year-old girl. A girl with thoughts and dreams and opinions, likes and dislikes, a girl with an over-the-top fondness for "hot cococoa" and the heart of Te Fiti. 

If you were still just a tiny baby, I'd have no idea how much my heart could hold, how much it could love. And love is something you've made me profoundly aware of in the past 4 years. Love that is deep and wide, love that is healing, a balm to the heart.

March 2014

You came into our world when everything was in flux. We were in the middle of a move, a huge life change - and you came and softened out all the rough edges, smoothed over the gritty pain of change that we were feeling so palpably. You were exactly what we needed, exactly when we needed it. I know you were born early, but honey - I think you were born right on time. 

Skyping with Mama!

I remember more milestones than I probably should, only being your aunt - you see, I was - and will always be - slightly obsessed with you.

In the NICU, you loved the aroma of coffee and you would perk up when your Mama blew soft puffs of coffee steam your way. During your first visit to Mum-Mum and Pappa's house, you screamed and screamed when we brought you outside into the winter sunlight. Your first solid food was a banana. You loved hummus very early, too! You were a cranky-pants if we didn't make your bottles fast enough. A good tubby always changed your mood for the better. You were the happiest of happy babies. You danced to Idina Menzel's "Let It Go" and Taylor Swift's "Shake It Off" like it was your JOB. You learned to snort at age 1 1/2 and the videos still make me lose it - you were ever-so-serious about the task. You've loved helping me in the kitchen, baking specifically, for nearly 2 years already. Dinosaur Train was your obsession for a long time, before Frozen came along, then Sofia the First...Stella & Sam...and now Moana. 

1st Birthday!

I only notice how you've changed when I look back at pictures and videos I kept - because living with you and beside you the past 3 years has deceived me terribly. 

I wasn't focused on you growing every day, I only knew that I loved you. 

It's true what they say about love. Love is blind, sweet girl, because I didn't notice - nor did I care - when you went from a size 1 to a size 2 diaper, or when you started busting out of 18 month onesies and needed the 24 month. I just loved you. That was the beginning and the end of it. But I can't ignore it now, because you went from this:

Then on to this:

To this.

And we're all just scrambling to catch up to you, kid. <3

Nowadays, at 4 years old...you're incredibly, maddeningly stubborn. You give your Mama a run for her money. You love your brother fiercely, and you don't like being separated from him...a far cry from the day he was born, when you threw up violently because you were so stressed out about all the changes (true story, ask your Daddy about it!) Despite a rocky start, Lincoln is now your complete favorite, and he worships the ground you walk on. You are smart, sweet, and have a sensitivity to those you love that is, at times, baffling. Beyond your years. You ask often about people who are gone now - Gramma Rosie most often (because you remember when she went to heaven just last year)...but you love to talk about her, because you get to remind us that she is in heaven. 

And then like magic, in the next moment you'll be a headstrong preschooler again that's undressing her Merida princess doll for the billionth time and simultaneously dragging your baby brother around on the floor...but by then you've already shown your hand - we saw you. You are a deep thinker, with a heart the size of Manhattan.

Beach kisses.

I want my own children desperately. Oddly enough, I've told you this since you were a baby, how I can't wait to give you some cousins to love and grow up with. But something in me knows that even if I never had a child of my own - which makes my eyes fill up just thinking it - so much so that this is hard to even type. But even if...

...even if the answer for me being a mother was no - I wouldn't be childless, Noa Janelle, not really - because God gave me you. I know you're not my daughter, I'm just your aunt, but sweet girl - God gave me the gift of you in a time where I literally needed to be saved. You were the life preserver that I clung to, the reason to keep going, the beaming sunlight in my otherwise gray days. He gave me a gift of a niece that I've loved like a daughter. I don't deserve you or the hope you've brought me. 

You darling, tiny woman - you are everything good in a world that is increasingly broken. My hope for you is that you keep loving and caring about people. All people. You are 4 years old, and your bright mind is completely blind to the "differences" that are making our world take sides right now...just stay that way. 

We're all just trying to find our way in this life; some are on the straight & narrow and others are winding & twisting...remember that Jesus loves all of His children, not just some. Just love people well. Always show concern and sensitivity as you do now. Believe in Jesus always as you believe in Him now - as a good Father who loves you and will take care of you. Follow Him, believe Him, and learn to trust Him fully. He is your anchor.

I am so proud of who you are becoming. I hope I have had something to do with how you're turning out. Even if it was only .0001% of you that I helped with, I'd be proud. 

The other night when I came upstairs to kiss you goodnight, you pulled a fast one on me.

You asked me to tell you a story about Gramma Rosie. [my weak spot] 

So I told you three stories about her from when your Mama and I were little. When I was done, you looked at us and you said something that made your Mama and I just kind of stare at each other. I'm not making this up...you actually said this. You looked at both of us and said, "Gramma Rosie...she drew hearts all over the world." 

Why yes, little one. She did, and so will you. 

Happiest of birthdays to you, lovely one. I love you, Noa Janelley!

Drawing hearts for you until the end of time,

Auntie E xo