I distinctly remember the day I found out you were coming, amid packed boxes, closing documents, and moving trucks. The dichotomy of emotions - sorrow to leave, joy that you were coming. That summer was difficult as we traveled across the country, like hermits, and we lived without your daddy for weeks at a time. I was tired and sick and anxious about our future.
When fall came we settled in Los Angeles. I slowly unpacked the boxes and smiled when I came across the things for you: crib bumpers, mobiles, and tiny little onesies. I set them aside lovingly to wait for your arrival.
And then, before we knew it, it was time for you to join us. We arrived at the hospital and nine hours later you were born. You came in screaming.
We took you home and you became the prince-ling of the Hoyer home. Four older sibling to love you, hold you, kiss you, smile at you. Life was good.
Not that you were always happy. Sometimes all that attention was downright annoying.
But for the most part you handled it well.
We learned of your penchant for escaping, and acted accordingly, from purchasing a crib tent to burying you at the beach.
You grew into a boy defined by his curly, surfer-dude hair. I cried the day it was cut. It was just so...you.
So now you are a talking three year old, lover of Thomas the Tank Engine, painting, Play-Doh, lollipops, and sausage. I adore you. I can't imagine life without you. I am so thankful that God knit you together in me. What a blessing, little boy. Happy birthday.