Little One, July has always been a big month for us. Afterall, it was July 4th that we had our first conversation over the phone, July 8th that we went on our first date (and decided immediately that we wanted to be exclusive) and three years later on July 18th that we got married.
Today is our third wedding anniversary.
When we were dating, your Dad and I would spend our July summer nights on what we dubbed Our Hill, a hill by your Dads childhood home where we’d park ourselves on the grassy knoll at night and talk for hours about our pasts, our presents and our futures. We’d wish on falling stars and cuddle in each others arms, nothing around us but the quiet of the night air and the ambient light of the stars and fireflies. We had long talks about how we envisioned our future while on that little piece of earth… and I have to say Lo, they all included children- but they never included children that shared our DNA.
If you had asked me three years ago on our wedding day where I’d hope we’d be by now, a lot of my visions would ring true to where our lives have ended up so far. Happy, stable, still as crazy in love as that day three years ago. We’re all three of those. The only thing that is missing in our lives is children. Three years ago, I would have hoped you’d be here by now. I still hope you were here by now, but alas that is out of my control.
I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was hot out, but the sun was shining and the sky was as blue as I’d ever seen it. I was calm…excited, but calm. When your Dad saw me step out of the limo, he was completely speechless and so was I, we both just stared at each other in amazement and after a few moments of silence that felt like years, we both looked at each other and said you look so amazing. I remember our first dance, all eyes on us but all we could see was each other.
I remember a point where my two flower girls were seated on my lap, and one of my bridesmaids said gleefully, “Maybe thats a sign of things to come! Maybe you’ll have two daughters!” I smiled, and hoped in my heart it would be true- that we’d be able to have any children in our lives in the future, even with our infertility diagnosis.
I’m hoping that it will still be true one day- though it doesn’t matter if it’s daughters or sons. I just hope we get the opportunity, the gift, the miracle to parent.
In three years when we’re celebrating our sixth wedding anniversary, I hope you’re here to celebrate it with us. Our lives are so rich and beautiful together already, but the amount of amazing that our lives are going to be engrossed in when you come is immeasurable.
I hope that when you’re old enough, we can take you back to our hill, have picnics and talk about what you see for your future. Then it will evolve from our hill as a couple to our hill as a family.
And on your wedding day, we’ll hold your hand and be excited for you the way our parents were for us. Or if you decide to never marry, then we’ll be there for whatever life event is important to you. The biggest most important thing in life is to be happy, Lo. And all we want as your parents is for you to be happy.
Because together, we’re one happy family.
Waiting for more anniversaries to celebrate,