My darling daughter,
I dreamed about you for an eternity before you arrived. Throughout each endometriosis surgery and treatment, the visage of you kept me going. IVF was brutal, and resulted in me being hospitalized for weeks, and hope was hard to find. After three disastrous cycles, I had no idea what to do next. I heard the ‘thud’ of the local paper hitting my doorstep, read that a new clinic was giving a talk, and the rest is history! I nearly lost you at 19 weeks; I was put in a room down the far end of the maternity ward after my waters broke and contractions started. The next 24 hours were the worst of my life. In what can only be described as a miracle, the rupture sealed, and my contractions stopped. You were holding on tenaciously, just as you did when an embryo.
I was going to have a planned caesarian, a result of my spinal injuries and other complications. A month beforehand, you were in the breech position, and decided that you would flip yourself completely over when the car broke down on the highway! Full of surprises, you decided to arrive shortly afterward. I was in full labour for over 24 hours before I decided to get to hospital. I was so used to endometriosis pain, I thought these pains weren’t the real deal! Rushed into surgery, I felt discombobulated. Oh darling, when I heard that roar of yours, I was in heaven.
Since your birth, you have been brimming with energy that cannot be contained, nor should it. Your kind heart has always been apparent. I recall when you were 18 months of age, and I took you to see a dear fellow who was dying in a hospice. You grabbed a hold of his hand, as though you sensed he needed your comfort in his unconscious state. You talk to the homeless, eager to hear their stories. You can’t stand bullies, and are the first to stick up for anyone under duress. When our dear friend passed in 2014, you flitted between the pews, consoling the mourners. You have never been frightened of death, hospitals nor the homeless. Maybe it’s because you know how to live; a gift you were born with.
I used to worry (freak out), when you would climb to the top of whatever took your fancy in that particular moment. I soon grew out of that. If I stopped you seeking the apex, I would be stifling who you were born to be. We have a tree out the front of our place, and I love hearing you talk excitedly of what you can see from your vista. You cartwheel, run and climb your way through life.
An artist, you see the beauty around you, and feel it is important to tell someone that you appreciate their dress, hair, style or home. “We have to compliment strangers, mum,” you say, “it makes people feel great!” You sing like an angel, and want to be a singer/actress when you are older. I have no doubt that you shall be.
You are astute, a model of discernment. You know instinctively who is meant to be in our circle, and who isn’t. I know to trust your impressions. I have seen you grow in confidence since I started homeschooling you, and I am so very proud of who you are. You are at your desk before I have had my coffee most mornings. You love learning. You love your birds, your room, your friends. You love life, passionately and unequivocally.
You are an organizer, and have a place for every treasure you possess. You actually love cleaning and cooking! I have no idea what I did to deserve you as a daughter, but I am glad I did it! I can’t believe a decade has passed since you were born. Boy, have we had adventures! We have also had our share of trying times, and despite my best efforts, I haven’t been able to shield you from disappointment and pain. Your ability to emerge from such astounds me. Keep it up, sweetheart. I know you will get to your destiny, and it shall be glorious. I will be right beside you, cheering you on.
Love, your very proud mum. xxx