Twenty years ago on April 25 I went to the doctor for an appointment. I'd been having contractions for a few weeks and he'd put me on bedrest so I wouldn't go in to labor too early. He stuck a large needle in my stomach and took a sample of amniotic fluid because that's how they could tell if your lungs were developed enough to be born without respiratory problems. Dad and I had to run the sample to a lab in Salt Lake and after about three hours, they called Dr Lewis and said your lungs weren't ready, so he put me back on bedrest.
Twenty years ago last Friday, we went through the same routine. The test showed that your lungs were getting closer, but they still weren't ready and if we could possibly make it one more week, you'd have a much better chance of having healthy lungs. So I went back home and went back on bedrest.
Twenty years ago today, Dr. Lewis took a sample of amniotic fluid. Dad and I drove it to the Salt Lake lab and then got a milk shake at A&W (by the lab). At about 1 p.m. Dr. Lewis called and said your lungs looked good and told us to be at the hospital at 4 p.m. that same day. We were so excited, but I was also super nervous. I'd never had a C-section before and I didn't really know what to expect.
We arrived at the hospital a little before 4 and they prepped me for surgery. About an hour later, our tiny, beautiful baby girl was born. We named her Veronica Lee White.
You were so little. 5 lbs 13 oz. 19 inches long. You were so skinny. Dad was afraid to hold you because you were so tiny, he thought he'd break you.
It was nice being at the Bountiful hospital. Grandpa and Grandma Higginson, Grandma Zesiger, and all your Higginson aunts and uncles (except Aunt Lori and Uncle John who were on missions) came to see you that first 24 hours. You were so pretty. You had big, dark eyes, a perfectly shaped head, and a little bit of dark hair. Oh my, we loved you so much.
You sounded like a little old man when you slept in your bassinet. You snorted and grunted and made all kinds of funny noises. Sometimes we'd just listen to you and laugh.
Bruce loved you so much. He always wanted to hold you and kiss the top of your head. As you grew a little bigger, you were very stingy with your smiles and your laughter. Sometimes I'd work and work and tickle and play peekaboo and make faces and you'd give me nothing. Absolutely nothing. Then Bruce would step up and no matter what he did, you'd smile for him. If he said "Boo!" you'd laugh until you had hiccups. I loved how much you two loved each other.
You have grown into one of the finest women I know. You're strong, you're committed, and you aren't afraid of hard work. That beautiful baby has turned into a beautiful woman who will one day be one of the most amazing wives and mothers. You're a good friend, a respectful daughter and a loving sister. You're an attentive grand-daughter, a thoughtful cousin and an amazing missionary.
I love you. I miss you on this special day but know you're exactly where you should be and where you want to be and I take comfort in knowing that even though it will be a couple of days late, I'll get to tell you happy birthday on Sunday.
Happy Birthday, Veronica