Nineteen years ago today, my little girl was born. My first born. I was silly. I was a mess. I was deliciously tearful and emotional and milky and thankful and overwhelmed. I had waited four long years through surgeries, treatments, check-ups, scans, prescription drugs, pregnancy tests, counting days on the calendar, and checking my breasts for telltale signs of soreness until I became unfit to appear in public. When I FINALLY saw a “+” on the test strip, I was thunderstruck. What I couldn’t know is, I would lose that baby and my heart and my faith would sink like the Titanic, only faster.
I wrestled with God and poured out my anger, my disappointment, my last drop of energy. I wanted to quit and just give up. But six months later, hope began anew and it wasn’t long before Miss Bo entered the world.
It is a foregone conclusion that she was, hands down, the most beautiful baby who had ever come into existence at that time.
Two years later we would go through infertility again trying to have The Wild Man. My trips to the doctor for scans were now accompanied by my little satellite, Bo. On one trip she asked where we were going and I told her, “To the doctor for a scan.” She had heard a lot of talk about “eggs” and I never gave it a thought. She piped up and said, “Yep, we have to go and see if you have a chicken baby in your tummy.”
Don’t talk about eggs in front of two year olds unless you’re scrambling them. The eggs, that is.
Besides, it was no chicken baby, it was a swingin’, jumpin’, howlin’, bouncin’ MONKEY that ended up in there and I’ve been tryin’ to cage him ever since (while secretly hoping I never do – he’s too much fun just the way he is).
But when Bo was due to arrive, I had to have a scheduled C-section due to health issues (are we SHOCKED?). I got to pick the day and I had two possibilities. One was on our niece's tenth birthday so I called and asked her how she felt about it. Some kids wouldn’t want to share the day. Not Miss Nickle Pickle. She was all over that and so these two favorite girls and cousins are exactly ten years apart.
Not a coincidence. A plan born in love. God’s for us. Our’s for each other. A sweet young cousin’s with a generous heart. And is it just me or does she look almost exACTly like Faith Hill? You KNOW my penchant for matching up faces.
YOU be the judge.
Happy Birthday to two wonderful and loving young women! Your mama/auntie loves you!
(P.S. – Now REALLY, my next post will be “What Not to Wear.”