Today is my youngest daughter’s 3rd birthday. We were lucky enough to have been there for the ones prior to this. We missed our oldest daughter’s 3rd, 4th, and 5th.

 

I decided yesterday to watch movies. Old movies of when Mia was a baby and Tory a rambunctious 2 year old. But what really got me was the video I had of three days after Mia was born. Tory and my husband sat on the couch, holding Mia. Tory had a look of wonder in her eyes as she looked up at her daddy. She just wanted to ‘hol her’ – hold her.

 

It was such a wild time for her. When we came home on mid-tour, she had the same look on her face. Awe. Disbelief. A stunned smile as if she couldn’t quite believe that we were both there on my mom’s porch.

 

Mia is a little different. We might have made it to her birthdays, but we’ve both missed more than half her life. My mom will have done all the potty training. She saw her walk. She’s been the one to hold her when she’s gotten sick and run her to the doctors to find out why she’s stopped talking after we left again.

 

So whereas Tory ran out to greet us, Mia was a few steps behind. She hid around the sliding glass door and for a moment, she wouldn’t come out. Then, she shrieked Mommy! And ran toward me (she wasn’t a big fan of her daddy for quite a while).

 

I’ve given up more than half my youngest daughter’s life. My dad drove me to the airport when she was barely seven months old for me to go to officer training. I didn’t see her again until she was almost a year. And she’d forgotten me when I did finally graduate from OCS.

 

So when I say that time is the one thing you can’t get back, I’m not exaggerating. I’m missing pictures of Tory’s birthdays. I’m missing whole years of their lives.

 

We’re down to less than 45 days before we get back to the states. I know it’ll be insane, trying to adjust from being just a soldier to being all those things that a mom is simply by virtue of being a mom. I know I’ll be busy because life is simpler over here in Iraq, but I’ll give up the simplicity just to be able to feel my daughters’ arms around my neck and know they’re safe and sound and tucked into bed a few feet away.

 

Happy Birthday, baby girl. We’ll see you soon.