Tomorrow morning my 2-year-old will wake up 3, and in a way, I'm turning 3 too. 3 years of learning how to do this whole parent thing, 3 years of loving harder than I've ever loved before, and 3 years of really coming into my own, not just as Mom, but a person. I don't know if I'll ever be able to thank Henry for what he's given me, but when I think back to the early morning of November 22nd, three years ago, I know that more than anything, he's given me the beginning of the most beautiful story. And most of all, through any sadness I feel about time and birthdays and change, I'm excited about all of the chapters yet to come.
Happy birthday, sweet boy. I love you so much.