Before this world met you, I knew you. I distinctly remember the certain foods that didn’t agree with you, and how much you didn’t want me to have chicken or queso. I remember the way I could rub my belly and you’d sick out a limb and let me know you where there. I remember reading all of the labels and turning down some of my favorite things to try and protect you. I remember snuggling up with my belly as I prayed over you, and how when I stood up in the morning you braced yourself. I loved the way you would roll and hiccup as the days went on. The moment I knew about you, I loved you. I loved you with every ounce of my being.
I remember just how uneasy I felt when it was time to break up our routine. I liked you with me. You were safe, secure, and protected. The thought of you no longer being that way was terrifying to me. Two years ago on this very day, I was pacing around the house trying to get all of my last minute things together. We were set to head to the hospital around midnight to start the induction process. I vividly remember looking at all of my lists, trying to make sure I had everything. I felt so unprepared. I was so uneasy that I was literally mopping the floor right before we left. I would go into your nursery just to look around, I wanted to make sure everything was ready for you. Could you tell I was scared? Our families came over to hug our necks before we left, and I remember looking at your Paw Paw with a huge lump in my throat. Growing up anytime I was uneasy about something I just looked at him. He had a way of making me feel safe, without ever saying a word. I didn’t know what was coming, all I knew was my life was about to drastically change. All of the horror stories I had been told the last nine months were racing through my mind. It was all becoming very real.
We loaded our bags in the car and headed for one last snack. I remember carrying our things in, and with each step I was constantly thinking, “the next time I am right here she will be with me.” We checked in they handed me a gown and it was go time. The clock ticked on, hours past, visitors came and went, and around 7:00 pm you decided you were ready to meet us. You were so eager that you really didn’t care if our doctor was there or not. She arrived and two contractions later…
you were here.
In that very moment I swear time stood still. It had to of. I could literally feel my heart beating inside my chest. Sweet girl, I don’t remember anyone else but you. The look of your little squished face and big fresh eyes. The sweet little cry you let out as she held you up in front of me. The way your tiny little body felt as they laid you on my chest. Nothing could have prepared me for that. Nothing. No book I could’ve read or the advice from a friend.
Uncontrollably I might add. You were the sweetest thing I’d ever laid my eyes on. God changed my heart that day. I lost a piece of me that I never want back. He took a selfish, confused, and broken person and transformed me into your mother.
Over the course of your life you aren’t going to agree with me. I promise to stand back as much as I can. I know I get a little crazy at times but it’s only because I love you. I would die for you. I would give anything and everything I have to you. I want the absolute best for you. I promise to fight for you, whether you like it or not. I promise to always put you before myself. To love you without condition. And I promise to raise you and teach you in a way that is suiting to the Lord.
To the little girl that made me a mama, I starting living the day I met you.
I’ll love you forever. I’ll like you for always. As long as I’m living, my baby you be.
Happy 2nd Birthday, Sterling Kate.
Photography Credit: Tara Hobgood http://www.tarahobgood.com