4

Four years ago after the most stressful intense pregnancy ever (at least for me,) she was born. I'd never felt more relieved. Some of y'all were around then and remember praying for Miss Joy as she grew. The tumor pressed on her lung and heart and my bags were packed from week 19. "We think she can survive," and "The likelihood of intrauterine surgery" were phrases often thrown around so that's why we picked her name. It was between Julie and Joy. I knew people could remember to pray for a baby named Joy and they did. God's faithfulness to meet me where I was shone through. I went to sleep every night with fear caving in all around me and when I prayed I asked Him to use her life for His glory, no matter how long it was. Little did I know what she'd face.

Joy was quite possibly the worst car rider baby in the history of time. She screamed from the minute I put her in the car until we arrived where we were going every single time until she was 5 months old.

5 months.

It wasn't pretty. At times I wondered what I did to deserve that kind of screaming. Then I wondered if I hadn't been specific enough in my prayers. I mean I didn't ask for a baby who DIDN'T scream so hard she made herself vomit. For 13 weeks straight in the church nursery. Every single week.

13 weeks. Vomit on the workers. Me having to apologize for this intense glued-to-her-momma baby.

Y'all I get anxious thinking about it.

She is still the most likely to melt down about things like the wrong color of hair bow or the wrong spoon for her ice cream. She is still car sick 90% of the time in the car. She is still glued to her momma.

She's everything we didn't know we needed.

Happy 4th Birthday Joy. You're a mystery I'm happy to spend my life trying to understand.