Before I gave birth to Penny, I always saw myself as a mother to boys. I could not imagine having a little girl. I had nothing against little girls, I just thought I could be a better mother to boys. Even when the doctor confirmed over and over again that we were having a girl, and even though I was excited to have a girl, I still couldn't wrap my mind around the idea. Every dream I had depicted a boy and I began to wonder if maybe the doctor had made a mistake (over and over again). Then, a few weeks before she was born, I had a dream that I was having a c-section and they took a boy out first, but they whisked him away to the table at my feet and I couldn't see him, and then a girl came and they put her on my chest. I remember sending Steve to check on our son while I held the little girl on my chest. Then, the next thing I knew, the little boy was walking out of the room and I asked him, "Where are you going?" and he laughingly responded, "I'm not your son," and was gone. I puzzled and puzzled over the meaning of that dream, and it wasn't until she was born that I understood what it was saying. I was so wrapped up in my ideal of having a son that I couldn't imagine a daughter. But when she was born, all the ideals and dreams of having a little boy walked right out the door and I fell completely in love with this little girl on my chest. When I saw her, I knew she was exactly the baby I was meant to have.
Motherhood has been good to me and for me thus far. Every single day I find myself thanking God for this big little miracle. Every single day I find myself loving her more and more. I am amazed every time she gazes into my eyes or gives me one of those gummy smiles. I have grown as a woman and discovered so much about myself, my passions, my strength in these two months. I have discovered that I can be amazingly agile, fabulously flexible, particularly patient and tremendously tired - but I have been joyful every step of the way. I have learned to do almost ANYTHING with just one hand, and how to improvise on the fly. I've gotten happy over seeing a poopy diaper, and laughed when peed on, pooped on, puked on. I've worried over feeding, weight and growth charts. I've endured plugged ducts almost every other week and being treated as a human pacifier. I've given up set schedules and housework and sometimes dinner when my baby needed me. Amazingly, I've still managed to have time to myself (thanks to my wonderful husband) to soak, relax and read a book.
After suffering with infertility for so long, I don't take this miracle lightly. So many people always ask, "when is the next one coming?" If you've not been down that road, you probably wouldn't understand. This is a miracle of the highest order, in my opinion, and I am content. People say, oh now that you've had one, everything is fine and you'll go on to have more. That's not necessarily true; there are no guarantees that I can have another baby. I am very content with my daughter and I've told God I will not ask for more. If He decides to bless us with another, that's all fine and well, but it is not something I am seeking after. Besides, I have waited so incredibly long for this little girl, I just want to enjoy every possible moment with her. She is just a baby, and I am not interested in pushing her to the side so quickly in pursuit of the next one. I am not opposed to having another baby, but the desire does not consume me, and I certainly don't want it to happen any time soon. Nevertheless, not my will, but His.
I've had some wonderful jobs and opportunities so far in life, but I get the feeling that this is what I was born to do. I love getting up everyday (it doesn't even bother me to get up at night) and every night I go to bed exhausted but content and grateful. Even with no accolades or appreciation, there's nothing else I'd rather be doing. I was made for this, born for this moment in life. She is the most amazing and beautiful thing my heart has ever known and I love being her Mommy!
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