Thursday, September 12, 2013

To a Little Girl, On Her Birthday...

Dear Quinn,

My daughter
My beautiful one.
My long awaited.
My precious gift.

Today marks one year.
One year since our lives were changed by you.
One year since I gave birth to you.
One years since I have held you in my arms.
One year since I became a Mommy. To you. Your mommy.

I didn’t want to feel the physical pain that day. I told them to give me all the drugs to make is disappear. Just make it go away.

But you, and Jesus, had other plans. You wanted me to feel every second of that pain, so that afterwards I would be able to hold on, not to the hurt, but to my strength as your mommy, to my pride of doing it and doing it WELL.

And so, you came, fast and hard, and so very painful. But oh, so beautiful.

I knew, in my grief stricken fog, the harder I pushed, the sooner I would get to meet you. And I had waited so long to meet you. And so I pushed with strength that was not my own, I bore down and gave birth to you, a child who would never have life on this earth.

And then you were placed in my arms. And everything changed. EVERYTHING. My whole world became you.


It didn’t start slow, or grow as I spent time with you, it hit hard and fast, just as the labour. I was filled with the pain of loving you. It encompassed me and took my breath away with how deep it was. I loved you. I love you. Just as much. Even more.

And then it began.

The impossible task of fitting a lifetime into a day. I couldn’t kiss you enough. I couldn’t hold you for long enough. I couldn’t get enough of your face, your hose, your lips, your chin, you little belly, your fingers, your giant flipper feet. I gorged myself with you and still I was not satiated. I would move heaven and earth to spend just one more minute, one more look, one more touch. It will never be enough.

And then we had to say goodbye.
The act of parting.
Forever on this earth.
The part of this sinful world that is so unintended, and so unnatural.

One year later, we are still saying goodbye. And one year from now, we will be doing the same thing.  Until this ends, it won’t end.

Today is your birthday, dear sweet girl, and it feels so wrong to be celebrating your day without you. But today, unlike most days, I am not going to try and be strong, and get through it without too many tears, or memories, or awkward moments. Today, I’m just going to revel in the memories of you. To celebrate you. To remember why this day is so awful, yet so beautiful at the same time. This is my gift to you. - To participate in today, fully, no matter how painful or uncomfortable it may be. I will sit here and I will remember every part of you, your laugh, your smile, your delight, and I will grow to fall even deeper in love with my beautiful daughter.

I LOVE YOU, Quinny Bear, fiercely, and passionately, and without end. I will continue to love you with every breath in my body until that sweet day when we are joined together again.

Forever and ever,
Your Mommy