No matter how many times life seemed to push me in a direction I had no desire to go in I never gave up on my dreams. I am not sure I had a grasp of exactly what I wanted aside from the opposite of what I grew up around. Excluding the safety and the love form my grandmother, I wanted to be far away from the anger and fighting. I longed for some financial stability and a nice home. Basically, what some would summarize as the American Dream.
I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to have children because I thought in order to be a good parent I had to want that more than anything else. Then in the spring of 1992 during a routine visit to the doctor I was informed I was expecting. I was terrified, I was pretty sure my marriage was not one healthy enough to bring a child into and my finances weren’t where they should be and I wasn’t sure I was worthy of the title mom.
Then over the next 8-9 months I noticed the fear being replaced by a union to the movement that was almost constant within me. I felt a love no words could express, yet still terrified as much about the birth as I was about being responsible for the life of a child. Then 10 days overdue in late fall I went into labor. Within 5 hours my daughter was born and appeared to be beautiful and healthy. I will never forget that day, from the moment I held her any anger I had pushed down into the depth of my soul towards her father was released and I felt nothing but love for this tiny baby.
In the middle of the night they came and took her due to her blood tests and the initial difficulty breathing she had after her birth. The next day I went home and got clothes and supplies to head back to the hospital to wait for the word I could take her home with me. Over 21 years have passed since she came home from the hospital. Over the course of these years I have made mistakes, said things I shouldn’t have and learned our greatest teachers are our children. They become our actions, they reflect our intentions and they ignite our hope that maybe just maybe we did something right.
My daughter holds my heart in hers, her smile can make the cloudiest day bright. She has a will stronger than I could have hoped for and a passion to live a happy life. She is kind and caring and sees good where others find doubt. I think of all the living she has yet to do and all the lives she has yet to touch and realize even if it was only my heart she opened to the full capacity of love her life was a blessing. Yet in my heart I know she has only just begun.
We let doubt and fear of the unknown limit the depth of our lives. We question our capacity to be more than where we came from and assume this desire somehow takes away from the generations which have gone before us. Yet, in reality it is only natural to want to improve our lives for our children as our parents and grandparents did for us. If there was only one thing I could do with my life, it would be to be the mother of my daughter.