Monday, July 28, 2014


Alicia came 21 days late - she was due on July 7 and was born on July 28 after doctors decided to induce me. 

I never quite caught up with all the joy I felt the day she was born. We didn't know the sex of the child and after three boys, we knew she would be our last.  When she was born, we erupted in praise and I screamed for joy.

"A girl!!  A girl!!"

There was a rush of excitement and then breastfeeding and then a time warp: bonding that only mother and daughter could do, family togetherness.  Reading, addition, pig-latin, drama, sports, friends and then school outside the home.  She looked at me with the most sincere, round brown eyes and trusted every decision I made.  She started slipping through my fingers sooner than I ever imagined. 

At about twelve years old, I realized she wanted a life outside of me and I was devastated.  More specifically, I came out of denial and I realized she was growing up.  She had more friends than changes of clothes and they were constantly coming over. 

She was a social butterfly, which lasted until she moved away from us- a transition I wasn't ready for.

Like every mother, I look at my daughter and sigh, thinking that it all went so fast.  I barely got used to the idea that she was grown up when she told me she was expecting a baby of her own.  First came Harmony, then came Alannah - both little replicas of her - complete delights to our family.

Today she is twenty-six.  Twenty six years have passed since the day I gave birth and screamed for joy the moment she was born. 

Today I will see her - a business woman, a mother - and an adult.  I will resist the urge to call her my baby, giver her too much unsolicited advice and worry about her.

Instead, I will say that I am proud of her and look forward to the year to come. 

Happy Birthday, Alicia.  One day your babies will be in their twenties and you'll know all of what I'm talking about.

I love you - today and forever. 


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