Dear Annie,

How is it possible that, in just a few days, you will turn one?!

Annie, at this time last year, I was 39 weeks pregnant with you and endlessly nesting. We were in the middle of a couple of scorching summer days (by contrast, while I'm writing this, it's a crisp 67 degrees outside!). Soon, we would meet our second daughter.

You came in the night! Just after 12 a.m. on your birthday, your dad and I sped to the hospital, and a few hours later, you arrived: our Annie. Annie Jean Everett. Little sister, darling daughter, precious gift.

At first, you slept all day and partied all night. We were total zombies -- I cannot tell you how many oat milk lattes I guzzled! -- but we were overjoyed to know you and care for you.

I have so many memories stored up from those early months: Solly wrap naps, trick-or-treating, dinners out with you in the wrap or your buggy, binkies scattered about in every room, neighborhood walks, bathtime with me and your sister, and more.

And, suddenly, you weren't a newborn anymore! I should have remembered how quickly this happened from watching Holly go through it, but it seems that I forgot. Overnight, you were rolling, then crawling, then babbling, and standing!

Now, Annie, you are such a big girl. Your personality shines through. You're sweet and sensitive, a total observer. With new friends, you are quietly hesitant, but once it's just the four of us, you show off your goofy, toothy grin. You love your big sister, and Holly tells us "I lub Annie!" Our nursing journey ended just recently -- an emotional reminder of how far you've come. Annie Jean, our one year old.

Sweet Annie, we love you to Heaven and back. We have cherished this year with you and we are praying for you always. You are a gift.

Happy (almost) birthday, Annie.

Love, Mom