9 months old tomorrow.

9 months ago, I was awestruck by this beautiful, unfathomable little person that came into my life in an instant. I spent 40 weeks preparing for her arrival and felt so ready but, after the doctor mumbled that her perfect 9 pound body was a "snug fit," he laid her on my chest and I found that no preparation would be enough. I knew nothing of love before I looked at her open, unassuming eyes and I realized she was listening for the sound of my voice.

I watched an Oprah interview with Jenny McCarthy, who says, when her son was born, it "ripped her open." These words seemed so true to me, after that day in the delivery room. She ripped me open in ways no one can fix with needle and thread. In years past, I noted quietly that I did not feel things the way other people felt them -- that nothing was as sharp, or as important, or as poignant for me as it was for others. After Kasyn was born, I cried daily and, at first, with no reason.

I cried at the end of every slightly sappy movie I had previously watched with wry amusement. I cried during soap operas. I cried while listening to 90's rock-pop songs about bad days and failed relationships. I cried out of simple happiness -- for a moment shared between us in the middle of the night when the rest of the house lay sleeping, or for her warm body asleep on my chest as we lie on the couch in the early morning, or for the way her hair smells just after a bath -- something I had never done.

I was so frightened I would make a mistake and, underneath the fear, was a sense of responsibility. There were nights I could not sleep because I lost time staring at her face. I watched her smile in her sleep. When she coo'd or gurgled at me, I cried each time. I studied each of her chubby fingers and tiny toes and felt a love whose end I could not reach. I remember wondering why people had warned me parenting a newborn was difficult, because loving her was the easiest thing I had ever done.

Today, I have been thinking a lot about how much time has slipped through my fingers in the past nine months. She and I have learned so much together. She gets prettier each day.

I am sorry that this entry is brief and disjointed -- I sorely am out of practice. I haven't written anything worth reading since she has been born, but I've decided I am going to start blogging again (my goal is to do so at least every other day) to keep track of all of the exciting things that will happen in our lives over the next few months, and to give Kasyn's deployed Daddy something to read. I only wish I had thought of this sooner.

Highlights will include: house-hunting with a crawling and squirmy 9 month old, moving 3 hours away with the same crawling squirmer, and deployed Daddy returning home. Footnotes will include: cloth diapering misadventures, new ASL signs Kasyn has learned, funny stories, milestones, and maybe some pictures if Im feeling brave.