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?
- She is now in a Size 9 shoe. One down from me!
- She jumps into the deep end of the pool without a life vest.
- She has amazing fashion sense.
- She asks me big person questions like, “Can you marry another girl?”
- 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.