Happy 1 Year, Little One

1 year and two weeks ago my world came crashing down. And with it many of my hopes and dreams shattered into nothing but debris to cut myself on when I’d think about them. And oh... did I think of them! And in the midst of it I was 13 days away from giving birth to my baby girl. A girl that had been pondered, prayed, and wondered over for almost 2 years. And while that dream hadn’t shattered, it had certainly been wounded. Why was she coming to a now broken family? Why now when I felt nearly incapable of doing basic things such as eating and sleeping? How was I going to provide for my family with a baby? I had two weeks to prepare. To absorb the shock. To release myself from the inevitable numbness that had set in. To become excited again for the birth of my child. To work through some of the fear. To grasp onto my other children as if by letting them go I would lose them too. That they might fall off the precarious emotional cliffs that loomed all around us. To try to be alive.

And they were a long two weeks. But also too short before I could prolong it no more and a low pressure system put my body into the process that would soon result in the welcome of my precious girl. Labor was hard. And I was so weak. Not in body. I was so afraid. But I went through it with the help of those closest to me. After all, what else could I do? After a short while she was born. Without much struggle she was here. And my fears began to dissipate.

The nurses handled her, scrubbed her, put stuff in her eyes, cleaned up the massive amounts of poop she was already producing. And she cried. Not a sweet cry. A strong cry. A cry of confusion but of determination. Looking back, it echos as if it was a cry of thriving against the odds. At last she was placed in my arms. She knew me and I her.  And the crying just stopped. She looked into my face but she couldn’t see me... not with that stuff in her newborn eyes. I hadn’t spoken. Scent? Every smell was new to her in this moment. And it  was the first time we’d touched. I can only describe it as a recognition of our spirits. We knew each other and loved each other in a way beyond our senses. We’d known each other before. And now, reunited, she was here in this tiny body in my arms. It was as if she was a dear old friend sent to me when I needed her the most. But also completely relying on me to be strong and to care for myself so that I could care for her. She was my Maelee and I no longer felt any doubts about why she was here. I knew we would be alright and I also knew that she belonged here. In many ways Maelee saved my life. I love her and am so grateful that I have the privilege of helping to guide her through this life. I’m so grateful she was born into our family at the time that she was to share her wonderfully happy and warm soul with us. Happy 1 year, little one.