I use to wonder why in the world parents would change their own child's name after the fact.

I see you Amy Schumer. 

But, yet, here I am absolutely delighted with a name change certificate in my hand.
Finally officially making Pip my daughter's name. 

You see, 8 years ago on the day she was born, we had a different name & a different daughter in mind. 

We called her Reid and I thought or hoped she'd be strong & smart with a side-of-sass. 
And while she ended up being all those things, she just wasn't Reid. 
Or what I originally envisioned at all.

The news she had Down syndrome, shook me to my core. 
And I had to grieve the daughter I thought I was having. 
In that grief, that is hard for me to even remember now, a daughter unfolded more beautiful than I could even dream. 

She's nothing I imagined. 
Yet everything I hoped for. 
She defies the odds, every single day. 
They said she might not talk or walk. 
And she kept getting hit be that a diagnosis, countless surgeries or learning to walk again after double-knee-surgery. 
She's had a broken heart, eyes that weren't supposed to see & 24/7 bring-you-to-your-knees disorders like Type-One-Diabetes & so much more. 
Yet, she's the most loving. 
Full of spunk, spit & sass person I've ever met. 
She's Pip. 
And now it's official. 

We gave her that nickname when she was just a few weeks old. 
She was so itsy bitsy we called her Pipsqueak. 

And it stuck hard. 

She knows no other name. 
My sons only know her as this. 
We've only ever called her it. 
To me, my own daughter is truly only Pip. 
Reid seems so foreign when it comes outta anyone's mouth.

Trust me, if you could see how proudly she writes out her name. 
Owning that P.I.P and when she's spicy she throws in a P.Y. 
She is my Pip. 
Thru & thru.
She was made to be beautifully different. 
And I didn't know it then. 
Like everything with her. 
I had to learn along the way...