Nine years ago in the early hours of the morning, in what might've been the fastest land speed record for a delivery.. my doctor ordered me to stop pushing. I almost laughed out loud. None of this pushing was my doing.. 20 minutes from start of labor until birth.. and your body takes over on it's own. Her next words stopped me cold. "The cord is around her neck, you need to stop pushing." If you've never had to fight labor, it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Almost more painful than the contractions that were pushing this baby out of my body.
After what seemed like an eternity, but was more realistically like half a minute, a tiny blueish bundle was laid across my chest. I might not have taken a breath until I heard her cry (which was more like a squeak) but I don't remember. I just remember pleading with God. Take me instead... just let her be ok. She was fine, but the big man upstairs almost took me up on the offer. Having been through a speedy delivery with my son, my uterus wasn't up to the task of another rapid delivery and it hemorrhaged while I was delivering that beautiful little girl. I thought I might die right there on the table, and the looks in the doctors eyes did nothing to dispel this fear for me. As we can see, I made out just fine, but they advised me against having any more children.
That little tidbit of knowledge in the back of my brain came to rear it's head so many times over the past 9 years. After 3 weeks when she started sleeping through the night, I remember thinking that I would never again be awoken from a slumber to feed one of my babies. When she potty trained a few years later, I celebrated that I would never be bogged down with dirty diapers again. I have celebrated her firsts and mourned the lasts. One year she asked for a baby brother for Christmas and I thought about what a great big sister she would be.
Over the past 9 years, I have watched my baby grow from a beautiful baby, to a beautiful young girl. Having grown up with only brothers, I was ecstatic the day they told me she was going to be a girl. She had pink and purple and frilly and bows and ribbon and the whole nine yards. Her smile lights up a room, and she is the best kind of person. She is helpful and gentle and kind. She is athletic and smart and her friends can't say enough nice things about her. She would talk the ear off a stranger if they so much as smiled in her direction. She is the exact opposite of her brother, so they balance each other out nicely. She can do no wrong in her father's eyes and I am a better person for having known her.
Today is her birthday, and as she enters those rocky pre-teen years the eye rolling and huffing are starting to show their ugly heads. But underneath that is the same sweet little girl I've always known. An angel that God was kind enough to let me hold onto and raise into this fine young girl. Happy Birthday Ms. Thang. Your father and I love you.
*blogger has a bug up it's arse and won't let me load any photos.. I'll try again later