Birth Day

Today is one year. My daughter was born one year ago. She is beautiful, vibrant, healthy, perfect. The first year was terribly difficult, but I find myself missing my newborn, just a little. I am sad. And I am glad.

I went through 12 hours of hard labor, an emergency c-section, and two blood transfusions: pain and suffering for the best cause I could possibly live for. My daughter is a perfect fusion of my husband and me, and I can't imagine having a child any other way.

I am grateful that I know who my true friends are; the ones who stood by me during the hardest year of my life. My husband, my mother, my lover. Friends from recovery. Our doula. These are the people who never ran away when I was suffering and who endured despite how difficult I was at times.

C, if you are still here, I thought you would have been one of those. I did push you away, but when had that stopped you before? My hormones were a wreck, but I have accepted all.  I have learned through this that I want you in my life, but I don't need you. I am growing older and wiser, and hope for this blessing for you, too.

My brother-in-law is my greatest disappointment, and I had thought he loved me. I was shocked at his betrayal during my first week postpartum. That endures, and his son and my daughter will be the sadder for it. I don't know if I can ever forgive what he did.

And so, we begin a new stage. Toddlerhood and motherhood. My sweet child calling me "mama" and lifting her arms to be picked up. Grabbing my ears and laughing when I tickle her belly. Long nights of snuggling when she can't sleep. It's the good stuff life is made of. I'm finding it hard to remember my life before her.