I am that mom. When I turn the calendar to September, I am struck by fierce nostalgia. My oldest, my miracle baby, celebrates her birthday in this month. I vividly remember what happened in the days before her birth: three doctors told me that I would never have children by natural means. They were wrong. I am so glad they were.

I remember her first birthday party. I remember them all. This birthday she turns 10. DOUBLE DIGITS! When did that happen?!?

Where did my baby go?

1. She is now in a Size 9 shoe. One down from me!
2. She jumps into the deep end of the pool without a life vest.
3. She has amazing fashion sense.
4. She asks me big person questions like, “Can you marry another girl?”
5. When I am not looking, she takes care of her sister so sweetly.

And yet, she still takes my hand as we cross the street or walk in the mall.

I will grasp her hand until the day she lets go.

She still wants hugs. She still wants to have dates with me.

I know that in a blink of my eye she will be planning to move out, and build a life that is her own.

I hope she knows I am always here.