To The Goblin Child,

It’s hard to believe a year has gone by but on the other hand it seems like two or three. When you haven’t slept for this long things start to blur. (True, very true…you really need to start sleeping through the night. — the daddy)

It was the last day in July when we went to the hospital and the first day of August when we got into the hospital in Rapid. It seemed like I was in there forever when it must only have been a couple of weeks. They expected you to come on your own so we spent the first days in big comfortable delivery rooms. When you waited they moved us to a small cramped postpartum room. We didn’t have a car up there, your dad rode up with me in the ambulance, so we were pretty helpless stuck at the hospital. Your aunt Shannon arranged to have Oreos delivered. They were the best Oreos ever. (The first night was the worst of course, neither of us knew what was going to happen.  We were scared we would lose you. — the daddy)

Your dad was with us for the first few days until he managed to get a ride back home. School was starting and they couldn’t live without him. Someone had to keep their job for the insurance to pay for you. He worked long days and late into the night so he could get back up to see us as much as possible. (It wasn’t something I enjoyed.  At all.  If I could have, I would have stayed with you both. — the daddy)

It was only August and you weren’t even due until October. I was on complete bed rest trying to keep you in as long as possible. I must admit I didn’t take it well. I had been working full time, ten hour days and riding, gardening and helping with cows on weekends. Doing nothing was amazingly difficult. I just wanted to go home. (I just wanted you both to come home. –the daddy)

One weekend when your father was up to see us we were watching a movie and the monitors started going off. That wasn’t too unusual they were constantly beeping; it was awful.  But this time the nurses all came running, milling around the room frantically. I wanted them to go away so we could watch the movie but this time the alarms were for real. You were laying on your umbilical cord and your heart rate was dropping. They began prepping me for the c-section. (SCARY! — the daddy)

Speaking of not taking it well. I nearly got in a fight with the nurse doing the “prepping”. She was horrid and mean, I know I yelled at her a bit I wanted to deck her.  Your dad ordered me to behave and remember that I was tougher than that. After the IV, catheter (that hurt), and the epidural, we were off to cut you out. It was nearly midnight. (gasp! — the daddy)

The anesthesiologist was great, his name was Paul, he wanted us to name you Paula. I can remember that but don’t know the doctors name and she was there for the whole stay in the hospital. They let your dad in just as they pulled you out and then he went with you up to the NICU. (You were a fighter right from the start. Don’t ever give up! — the daddy)

I didn’t get to see you until later the next day. If they had told me how much I was going to like you I wouldn’t have been so difficult about the hospital thing, but who knows these things. You were teeny 3lbs 11oz but healthy despite all the tubes sticking out of you and the horrible IV in your head. You had been on oxygen overnight but were only getting room air by then. Once you started taking milk they gave it to you through a tube down your nose kind of like tubing a calf. (I think maybe the doctors and nurses got tired of us trying to relate raising a child to raising a calf.  All except for Dr. Benn and Dr. Kovaric who both lived on ranches too. — the daddy)

After being forced to be there all that time they kicked me out as soon as I wanted to stay. Leaving you there was amazingly difficult. We got up to see you as much as we could but it was a long drive and right in the middle of Central States Fair and Sturgis, so hotel rooms cost a fortune. Finally I started driving up every other day, that worked fairly well. It was kind of nice in a way to have you up there, we got lots of training. The nurses taught me to change diapers. I really had never changed one.  I learned how to give baths, feed and got answers to any questions that came up. There was no getting a new baby home and panicking. (Yep, it was nice that we got to ease into the whole thing.  I think your mom and I are pretty well practiced now, so if you ever have a baby brother or sister, I think we will ask if we can bring it home right away. — the daddy)

It has been quite a year. You went from a tiny baby mouse type creature to a big beautiful healthy girl. You still spit up on your dad all the time, though not as violently. You seldom sleep through the night. Don’t you think it’s about time that you start doing so? You are walking, a few steps by yourself or for miles holding a finger. You have said “Hi” for a long time now, you often say “Hi daddy” and “Yeah”. I think you are brilliant, but I understand most parents think that.  (But you are. — the daddy)

Happy Birthday, my little Goblin Child, I can’t wait to see what the next year brings. (Happy 1st Birthday, Elly! — the daddy)