I actually wrote most of this a couple of days ago. And technically, Harlyn won’t hit thirty days until tomorrow. But it’s my blog and I can post it if I want to. Keep in mind, poetry is not necessarily my strong suit. Enjoy!

Right now, as I write this, you lay next to me.
Just wiggling by the light of my warm laptop screen.
In the past thirty days, you’ve cooed, stared, and explored.
You’ve cried, burped, and pooped: you’d think we were bored.

Alas, quite the opposite, if I say so myself!
We have quite a few things on our “need to do” shelf.
Caleb starts back to school, Alex is active as ever.
We’re selling our house (which might happen, oh, never).

But on the day you arrived, I shed tears of joy.
I was prepared for a third – and, yes, final – baby boy.
I so wanted a girl, you fulfilled my heart’s craving.
Something so small, so sweet, so amazing.

In your first week you hardly even opened your eyes.
In your second, I noticed how quickly time flies.
The third week, I told myself it wasn’t a dream.
Now the fourth week, I’m convinced. We’re an inseparable team.

I’ll protect you from boys (we’re really quite vile).
I’ll give you lots of toys (we’ll add them to the pile).
And I’ll watch and I’ll worry every day of your life.
All the way to the day you make someone their wife.

For now, life is filled, once again, with a baby.
Diapers are filled, too, but maybe – just maybe,
We can look forward to days where we laugh hard and deep.
For now, please allow us a few hours of sleep.

It’s an enormous effort to have a baby to raise.
(But mostly for mommy; she deserves all the praise).
The days, they drift by in a soft, gentle flow.
Already your birthday seems a lifetime ago.

So here we both are, just thirty days later.
You’ve already made my life that much greater.
And though I’m exhausted and my mind is in tatters,
You’re my beautiful girl, and that’s all that matters.