I remember how after you were born, I called my mom and dad to tell them they were grandparents, and sent messages to everyone in my phone book. You were brand new, baby girl, and I wanted the world to know.
I remember the first time I wrapped you in my sling and walked up to the shops. An old lady who could barely see your covered head asked how old you were, I said 6 days old.
I remember when we went out on our first family outing to a friends birthday party. Your mummies were terrified. Everyone was cooing over you, and a pregnant lady came up to us and asked how old you were. We said, she is 10 days old.
I remember driving into the roughest part of London to finally register your birth. You were in a beige dress – your first – and your mummies were so tired but so excited to name you officially Alexandra Maryn. When the registrar asked your age, we said 5 weeks old.
I remember Christmas Day, going straight from dinner to the emergency room, you were sick with bronchiolitis. When the doctor asked how old you were, we said she’s 8 weeks old.
I remember waking up one morning, looking at the clock and instead of saying 2 or 3 or 4am, it said 7:20am. I flew out of bed to see if you were still alive and there you were, snoozing away in your crib. You were 15 weeks and 5 days old.
I remember going on one of our long Sunday morning walks with you in the backpack. We stopped at Gregg’s on the way home for a coffee and Mummy’s steak bake. Your hat fell on the floor and I asked a lady if she could put it back on you. She asked how old you were, I said 5 months old.
I remember when we called 999 because you were wheezing and had a barking cough: a severe case of croup. The operator asked how old you were and we said 6 months old. She sent an ambulance to take us to the hospital.
I remember getting on the airplane to meet your family in America. You stood on the seat and smiled at the lady sitting behind us for ages until she saw you and smiled back. She asked us how old you were, we said 8 months old.
I remember when a friend saw a video I posted on Facebook of you taking your first steps. She asked how old you were, I said (very proudly, because you are so strong), she is 9 months old.
I remember when we went to visit nurseries for when your Mummy went back to work. We put this off as long as we could. We went to 10 different nurseries, and each one asked us how old you were. We said 10 months old (though you wouldn’t start until 13 months.)
Today, my baby, you are 1 year old. Yesterday I could say you were 11 months old, but today I start counting your age in years. How quickly time passes, yet it seems like you’ve been with us forever. I can’t wait to watch you grow up, but you will always be my little baby.
~ Meaghan Kall