Giggles, chatter and footsteps. Those little steps growing louder and closer. I’d spent a night in and out of bed soothing fears and refilling water cups. All were failed attempts to get a gaggle of excited girls to sleep. I’m exhausted. What was I thinking in allowing my daughter to invite nine first grade girls to spend the night? Just keeping my eyes open and attempting to will myself out of bed feels impossible. But I smile and laugh. It’s motherhood.
The joy was brought on with the realization that exactly six-years-ago, Stephana woke me for the first time early the morning of July 8. The next 34 and half hours, we waited with me in various odd positions “guaranteed” to speed up Stephana’s arrival. No surprise, my willful, independent daughter didn’t want to conform even then. Ultimately, we ended up in the operating room, holding our breath until we heard a tiny little protest. Exactly fourteen months later to the day, her little sister would make a much louder, ear piercing entrance. Welcome to motherhood.
Each moment over the last six years was full of firsts- first giggle, first smile, first word (mama), first step, first tooth, first day of school. I will never take for granted any of those moments or forget the words of a tv viewer. He congratulated me in a parking lot, pointing to his teenage daughter and saying, “I promise you- she was that little a few weeks ago.”
Time goes by quickly. Once “mommy,” I’m now called “mom” more often. Instead of telling me all about her day at pick up, I get a “good.” I gather more information overhearing backseat conversations between her and her friends. Most mornings, I find her downstairs dressed and eating the breakfast that she made. But she still kisses me before getting out of the car and wants me to walk her to the school door.
Yesterday, walking through the aisles of the grocery store with her hair pulled back in a ponytail and a sequin clutch under her arm, she reached for my hand. I felt the warmth travel from my hand to my heart. Hot tears welled up in my eyes because those little moments are fleeting as my baby continues to grow up. The night ended as it usually goes with kisses and an “I love you, baby.” But as I left the room, I heard, “As long as you’re living, your baby I will be.” That’s when the tears came and I couldn’t stop them.
Happy birthday, Stephana! You are the best gift that I’ll ever receive. I’m so lucky to be your mother.
