My Dearest Daughter,
You are here. You made your debut the morning of October 5th. The Cowboys game was on when my water broke the previous night. I was lying on the couch in the living room working through contractions (which were not regular or increasing in intensity like the doctor, birth class, books, and blogs said they would be). Daddy was out in the garage tying flies and drinking a beer (you know, like he always does to calm down when he is worked up about something). Then my water broke, and things got real. My sneaking suspicion that I would have you that weekend was correct.
We went through the usual steps of getting admitted. Between 10 pm that night and 7 am the next morning, I progressed from 3 cm to 9 cm. The sweet nurse got everything set after the doctor told her it was time for me to push. I was surprised that in the beginning of labor it was only me, your dad, and the nurse in the room. That changed after only two contractions.
With the first contraction your little heart slowed down and did not improve once I was done pushing. Oxygen was utilized to try and help with the next contraction, but it didn’t improve. I could tell the nurse was nervous while she was calling for the doctor, and I knew something was wrong when the doctor got suited up after helping with only one contraction and a whole slew of people came rushing into the room. Your heart rate was not supposed to stay that low, and everybody was worried.
The doctor looked me in the eyes, knowing that I did not want a C-section, and told me, “Molly, you are going to have to push with all your might. This is going to be the hardest thing you have ever done, but you can absolutely do it. You understand?” I nodded in a stupor. I would do everything in my power to get you safely into my arms, so we okayed the use of the vacuum and went forward. Twenty minutes later, you emerged with an arm up as if you were Wonder Woman charging to the rescue.
Emotions I have never felt before overflowed and poured out of my eyes once they placed you on my tummy. I only looked away from your perfect face long enough to kiss daddy and tell him how much I loved him. I now believe in love at first sight. You were screaming and covered in vernix, but that didn’t make a bit of difference. I held you close while they wiped you down, and daddy cut your cord.
I always thought once I had a child that I would want that child to do and love specific things. I might want my child to be creative, love dogs, be a golfer, love scary movies, and grow up to be a business owner. However, when I look at your face, all I want is for you to be happy. I want you to feel loved and never feel pain. It doesn’t matter if you turn out to be a carnival worker as long as it makes you happy. I may not have any experience as a parent, but I will do anything for your felicity.
I want to do this for you, because you have already done the same for me. Before you were born, I had career goals to meet, financial milestones to hit, and the 101 things to do before I die. Now not a one of them matters. Being the best mom to you is the only goal that matters. You have allowed me to become the best me, and I have fulfilled my purpose in this life.
I am happier now than I ever imagined possible. Your birth filled my heart with a new love. This is the love that I was meant to experience and share with your daddy. You have lit a new fire in my heart for your dad. So thank you Jelly Bean. You have helped me realize a dream, and now I will help you to achieve all of yours.
I love you with all my heart in the deepest most sincere way imaginable.