On November 11, 2007 at 4:56am (an early bird like her mother), the most beautiful little girl emerged into this world.
I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember she screamed her head off during that final push out. But then I remember she quieted, looked around, sucked her hand, and slowly took it all in. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life and it scared me how much I loved her from that first moment. How I realized all of that worry I had when she was inside me multiplied infinitesimal and I would never stop worrying. Or loving. And how lucky I was to have something so wonderful to love and worry over.
Five days later with my bottom still sore and my breasts beyond painful, my mother, Frances and I hobbled to her first doctor's appointment. As the nurse lifted her up to the baby scale for her first official post-hospital weight, another mother with preschool-aged children by her side gasped as she saw Frances and simply said, "Wow! She's just perfect!" Hormonal, sleep deprived, and scared I had been doing it all wrong that first week I squeaked out a tearful, "thank you," and a promise to myself to be eternally grateful to the stranger who helped me realize that I am indeed raising a perfect little girl.
Happy Birthday, Frances! I am honored to call you my daughter and I can't thank you enough for letting me a part of this incredible journey called motherhood.
And I would be remiss in not acknowledging that today is also Veterans Day, a special day in our family. My grandfather was always very proud that his great-granddaughter (and his bride's namesake) was born on Veterans Day and I know they had a special bond because of this.
I also know that the light shining down on them in this photo in my grandmother. She would have loved my darling daughter.
Happy Monday, everyone!