Her birthday is Sunday. I remember so clearly wondering if I would be able to do "it" again when I learned I was pregnant again. It went like this: I was "late"... not late for lunch, my period didn't show up. I tested a ridiculous amount of times with several HPTs. All negative. I knew. I was already a mother to a 3 year old little girl and a 6 month old teeny screamer of a thing. Poor baby. Wasn't really her fault... she just screamed constantly, and I really had given up on figuring out what she wanted. So when I dragged my ass into my midife's office I was expecting to be told I was pregnant. However, when the nurse looked at the dip stick and said, "Oh honey, you're gonna have a baby." I wanted to slap that shit eating grin off her face. Instead I replied, "I already have a baby," and I picked up my teeny screamer and walked out of there.
I came home and told my then husband. He was delighted. So, that was that. The nurse was happy and my baby daddy. I was all set. The screaming gradually ended and so did the crying (my teeny's and mine). I came to accept what (or who) lie ahead of me.
The night she was born the contractions came on hard and fast... woke me from a dead sleep. We had taken a long walk, he, the kids, and I earlier that night ... after dinner... in that moment right as the summer nighttime air comes alive with fireflies. I must have instinctually known I needed rest to do real work later, because I went to bed before everyone else, straight away after our walk, maybe even before it was fully dark.
When she was born, it was only he, I, and a nurse in the room. A special nurse that I have the pleasure of still working with on occasion today. My labors are hard and fast, and my babies come quick and easy. It is a trade I will take.
Everything about her was easy and beautiful and delightful. The way she lay in my arms and looked up at me, it was as if she knew she needed to be calm FOR ME. And she was. Very calm. She suckled at my breast in the most gentle and knowing way I've ever known or have yet to encounter, and it was what I needed. I didn't know how I was going to manage this. But it was like she was telling me that it didn't matter... because it didn't need to be managed.
So I relaxed. And I loved. And I mothered... her and I mothered myself a little too.
Sunday she will be nine. Our lives are much different now if you are on the outside looking in. Yeah. I bet so. But, if you live inside of us, it's not any different. Love still lives here, where ever we live, we still enjoy the fireflies, and I've learned that anything worthwile... takes a little labor.
And now some words of wisdom from my rockstar... "What's the big deal about boys kissing boys or girls kissing girls anyway? People in France do it all the time."
Tonight she handed me her wish list for her birthday. I thought I'd share:
1. a Nintendo D.S. game (Okay, this one makes sense.)
2. scatebourd helmet (I'm not going to correct her spelling... it's too cute.. oh and SAFETY FIRST)
3. germ kit (WTF is this? Anyone!? Does she want to grow germs...)
4. catipolte (omfg... I laughed so hard picturing her catipulting her brother. See #2)
5. sling shot (Good god. After she handed the list to me she said, "And not a cheesy one either.")
6. a hard guitur case (This is actually what I wanted to get her.)
7. nerf gun (We have a least 8 already. Maybe more ammo would be more appropriate.)
8. guitur cleaner (Ah. Yes. She is my daughter.)
Then she signed her FULL name.
I am so in love with my daughter.