My sweet baby girl turned eight years old this past weekend. It's unbelievable! Eight seems so big, so impossibly grown-up- a huge milestone of sorts.
Of course my mind keeps drifting back to the very beginning. . .
It was thanksgiving day, I was anxious and exhausted of waiting- my arms ached to hold this wee bundle and to finally try on the motherhood title. All of our family was in town, feasting and celebrating together. After the huge meal of turkey and stuffing my sister-in-law and I snuck away to catch up and share in some secrets and giggles. In a fit of laughter, I asked "Is it common to start peeing your pants near the end of ones pregnancy, because seriously I'm going to need some new clothes soon." All of this led to more laughter, which eventually concluded with me standing amidst a large puddle on the floor. A veteran in this birthing gig, she informed me that my water had indeed broken and it was probably time to be getting on to the hospital.
I couldn't believe it was finally happening- it was all beginning and I was just on the cusp of something truly amazing. Mid-way thru this incredible moment called labor, the doctor informed us that there was a complication- it was apparent that the cord was wrapped around our little ones neck and the baby was struggling. They gave me a quick time limit to continue on myself before the whistle would blow, and they would whisk me away for surgery.
Somehow, we made it- and in a cacophony of noise and chaos, quiet and tears- there she was, my beautiful baby girl! Somehow amongst all the nerves and excitement, I forgot to listen to the one thing every mother longs to hear- crying. We were met with silence and a baby that was more than a bit blue.
Quickly the doctors and nurses snatched her away, and I was left confused, bewildered and desperate for answers- would she be ok? What's happening? I kept asking. Then I started to see a tear roll down my nurses face and panic truly set in. My mind was racing, yet deep down there was an utter calm. This was my baby- she was a fighter, she was strong and brave. I hadn't met her yet, but I knew her still.
After what were the longest moments of my life, across the room came the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. My little gals first cough followed by a loud long wail. They fixed her up and there she was- mine. My daughter, snuggled up right there in my weary arms.
And so began the greatest adventure of my life. These past eight years getting to know her, hugging her, loving her, nurturing her have been the best days yet. She is exactly who I knew she would be- she is strong, she is creative and vibrant. Fiesty, and kind. She has a mother's heart, she's a caretaker with one of the most beautiful spirits I've ever known.
I am continually moved and pushed by knowing her. I don't always feel like I have the best knowledge of how to handle or guide her, but she seems to understand and appreciates me anyway.
I want to bottle her up and keep her young forever, yet there's a huge part of my heart that enjoys watching her change and grow and I am wholly fascinated to see what she will do and who she will become. I'm hoping by writing this down it will keep her in someway preserved, remembered at this stage, for the magnetic and wildly adventurous girl that she is today.
Aussie we love you so much, you are our dream come true and never in a million years could we have imagined up someone as truly amazing as you are. Happy 8th birthday, my love!
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