Kindergarten

A little over five years ago you were placed on my chest and we became almost inseparable. We were together 24/7 for most of your early life and your life intertwined with mine so much that figuring out where yours started and mine ended became blurred. Sure, there were weekly dates with your Nana and Papa, and daddy date afternoons, but mostly it was you and me, kid. And I loved nothing more than to spend my days with you.

And then three weeks ago you went to kindergarten.

This new and exciting journey started for you, the world expanding in ways you had no idea was even possible. Your mind opened to new experiences and thoughts and ideas. Your journey of exploring the world, was just beginning and you standing at the cusp of it felt large, and beautiful, miraculous, and overwhelming.

Your first few weeks brought a bit of separation anxiety, mornings of you grabbing me a little bit tighter at drop off, some tears in your eyes, and a large dose of uncertainty at this new expanding world. And every pick up was full of your love for school and declarations of "it wasn't worth the tears." And yet each morning that touch of separation anxiety appeared again, only to be eased the second I disappeared from sight.

But while your world was expanding and growing, mine felt like it was shrinking. My days continued very similar to how they had before. I went to Costco to get groceries. But there was no shouting, "all aboard!" cuing my favorite little girl to hop back on the side of the cart before changing aisles. The absence of chatter was deafening as washed the dishes or folded laundry. There was no little girl helping me pull the freshly washed sheets on my bed. I did my fall baking as I did every year, but there was no miniature chair pulled up to the counter with little feet standing on tip toes and little hands helping me stir. And to be perfectly honest those first few weeks were tougher on me than they were for you.

As we are finishing our third week of school, you're getting used to the routine and feeling less anxious at drop off. And just as you are getting used to your new routine, I am getting used to my new routine as well. I am finding new ways to spend my time and replacing old traditions with new ones. I feel overwhelmingly grateful I was able to spend so much time with you for the first five years of your life. I feel even more grateful I am well enough to watch you take your first real steps of independence into the world. What a magical journey we have been on!

These moments in time

Dear Kaylee,
There are some moments in motherhood that I wish I could freeze time and relive over and over. At this age right now, motherhood is so much less grueling than when you were a baby. Sure, there are still bad moods, and the ever growing "attitude" and moments that can be tough, but the day to day workload of diapering and feeding and rocking and calming two year old tantrums are all a distant memory. I find my moments with you, as a kid, rather than a baby so much more relaxed. I held on to your babyhood so tightly because my love for little baby Kaylee was so strong I couldn't imagine that I could continue to love motherhood as much as I did when you were an infant snuggled in my arms. Oh, but a mothers love doesn't know how to regress, it only grows and grows.

One of my absolute favorite activities to do with you these days is read to you while you keep busy doing art work. When you were three I started reading kid chapter books (Ramona!), but as you got older you became more and more interested in the chapter books I was reading for myself. I joined a book club about a year ago and you often asked for the details of the books we were reading. Your interest in my books continued to grow and I found myself reading excerpts of the book club books I was reading. As long as you found an activity to do while I read, you wanted longer and longer excerpts. Now, you beg me to read my books to you while you busy yourself with crafts. Last Saturday I read almost 100 pages to you in the course of a day. Every time I tried to take a break you would beg me to continue.

Of course, my sweet sensitive child, I need to edit or omit parts because you are only four! You pay attention at times and at other times I know your mind wanders which makes it easier for me to skip over parts, improvise, or "lose" my spot only to pick up again a few pages later. You have rejected bedtime stories in exchange for listening to me read whatever I am currently reading.

This, my dear girl, is the parts of motherhood that make me thankful for the here and now. It is easy to look at old pictures of you when your cheeks were chubby and your hair still held tight curls around the nape of your neck and miss those sweet and tiring baby days. These magical moments are especially amazing because I know we will never have to leave them in the past. These traditions we can continue forever. Eventually, we will swaps roles, you will read chapter books to me! And even when you grow up and move from my home, we can read the same book no matter how close or far you live and we can discuss the books over coffee or, if distance requires, over the phone.

My sweet girl, I feel so very lucky to have you in my life and as each day passes my love for you just grows and grows. Thank you for going on this adventure called life with me and daddy. You bring so much joy to our lives and we can't wait to continue to watch you grow!

Love,
Mom

I Will Miss These days

I was looking at pictures of you that were taken when motherhood was still so very new to me. As I looked through the pictures of the first few months I felt pangs of sadness, of longing. I so desperately wanted to reach into those old photos and pluck that chubby baby from the arms of my former self and cuddle her. I wanted to pinch her little baby thighs and kiss her chubby baby cheeks. How can you miss someone that is still sitting right next to you? I realize there will be a day, not long from now, that I will miss almost-two-year-old Kaylee. I will want to pull that toddler from old photos and cover her entire curious face with kisses. So here are some of the things I wish I could hold on to, but like everything else I know one day these will be a distant memory.

• How you tell me "do it myself" a million times a day, but somehow it sounds more like "do it applesauce".
• If you hear me coughing you always stop to ask in the sweetest voice, "pop pop, mama?" (pop pop is CPT) And if I say yes, you diligently pat my back until I stop coughing.
• When you have an itch you tell me, "Back is itchy" then after you scratch it you shout with the enthusiasm only a toddler can have, "Mano (hand) GOT IT!!!!"
• That you think the dragonfly that comes to our yard everyday comes to visit you specifically. You remind me everyday that he comes to see you and that he likes you a lot. 
• Whenever you see me doing something that your aren't allowed to do (cut with knives, use sharp scissors, etc) you always say, "Very careful, Mama."
• You appreciate my sense of syle. After I spent all day painting our bathroom you came in and exclaimed, "Oh, niiice azule!" or after purchasing a new rug to put by our sliding door you told me, "Nice blanket!" 
• The compliments you give, often out of the blue, "Mama, soo cute!" or "Mama, soo nice!" or "Mama so funny!"
• You love me no matter how much of a hot mess I am. After wearing a frumpy t-shirt the other day after rolling out of bed you said, "ooooh, mama! Nice dress!" and you actually meant it.
• You give me so many kisses a day I think I have a lifetime supply. I cherish each on knowing someday you won't want to kiss me, especially on the mouth, anymore. 

Oh little one, you will never fully understand how much love and joy you bring to my life. I can't wait to see what the future brings with you!

Our Start

The start of June will always make me think of the start of our journey together...

It was the last few moments of a Tuesday evening that brought you into the world. The day was so stifling hot that even the cool evening breeze couldn't calm it. The room was dim and quiet, your father and I silently waiting your arrival. Each time I felt my body tightening, squeezing, pushing you from your safe place in my womb, I pushed with every ounce of my being to bring you into my arms.

I remember the first moment I saw your face, the quick release that allowed you to peek out into this world you had only heard murmurs of  from inside the womb. I remember that moment when you were between two worlds, that of the safety of my body and the giant one that lay before you. Your eyes were open, taking everything in, your mouth was open, already trying to call to me. It was mere seconds and yet in my mind that moment felt like hours. I turned to my husband, seeing him instantly transform from an ordinary man to a father. His eyes teared up and I saw the love he already felt for you.

With one more push the midwife had me reach my hands to you. I would be the first to hold you, meet you, love you. I pulled you to my chest and listened to the beautiful cries that sprang from your throat. You were instantly curious, looking to find my voice purring how beautiful you were and how much I loved you. You lifted your head to try to see my face. To meet this woman that had cared for you, talked to you, loved you, lived for you, for your entire existence.

The room was kept cool and yet there was the warmth of love surrounding the two of us. The warmth of our separate bodies, once joined, wrapped snugly around one another. The warmth of our breath, your very first breaths, on each other's skin. The warmth of my heart, which I once thought was full, spilling over with love for you: my heart, my soul, my life.

It was the quiet on that Tuesday evening that I was born too. My heart was changed, my mind was changed, my love was changed forever. My entire being had changed because at that moment, 11:13pm, I was reborn into a mother, into your mother. And for that I will forever be grateful.

I Have Known You Forever

Dear Kaylee,

I have a story to tell you that some people may not believe to be true. Yet, I promise you that this story is as true as the stars in the sky and the Earth beneath our feet. This is the story about the first time I met you. Now, you may think this is a story of your birth, but Kaylee, this story starts long before that warm summer Tuesday in June.

When I was around seven years old, although it is hard to remember my exact age at the time, I used to dream such vivid dreams it would seem as if they were real. I would dream every night and could wake to tell the most specific of details. This is around the time I started dreaming of a baby girl that I knew would be mine. Now some people may roll their eyes and think that it is only natural that a child would dream of having a daughter someday. Oh, but Kaylee, I knew this dream was different. I knew this blonde haired baby girl was destined to join me someday. This same baby came to visit me in the night throughout my childhood. Each dream was slightly different, but the baby was always the same. 

As I grew older all my dreams started to fade. I was busy and paid no attention to what my night mind was telling me. The dreams of my blonde haired baby seemed to fade. But, the memories of those dreams were still so fresh in my mind and they gave me hope during my hardest times. When CF seemed to be winning in my early 20's I knew without a doubt that I had to get better because I needed to allow my baby, so patiently waiting, to have her time on this Earth. When I was scared, like a specific very frightening flight to Costa Rica, I knew that nothing too bad could happen to me because my child had not found her way to me yet.

When I met your father I knew that we would spend the rest of our lives together, but something puzzled me. Your father, as you know, has a head full of black curls. I was the only blonde in my entire family and your father being from Central America was not even close to blonde. I wondered if my dreams misled me, that maybe I was a wishful child and these dreams were nothing more than hope for what could be mine. 

A year after your father and I got married I found out a baby was growing inside my body. I knew that my daughter was finally here with me. I could not wait to finally meet her after not 9 months, but 20 years of waiting. I spent my pregnancy dreaming of a baby to snuggle and teach and love. I pictured this baby growing in my belly to have a head of dark hair just like her father.

I remember the day you were born, my love. It was a Tuesday that was quickly fading into Wednesday. You came to me on a scalding hot summer night in a room filled with moonlight. I pushed you from my womb to this Earth and as I pulled you to my chest I saw upon your head a pile of blond hair just as you had when you came to visit me all those years ago.

You see, Kaylee, you are my daughter, but I am just as much your as you are mine. We were destined to be together since the beginning of time and our love will outlast our time on this Earth and expand into eternity from which it came.

Beauty In Sickness

14 days of sickness. 14 days of fevers that left me shivering and useless in bed. 14 days of coughing until I saw little stars dancing around my eyelids. 14 days of an insatiable need for sleep. So many times during these past 14 days I have longed for them to disappear. I found myself thinking, I wish it were next week when this sickness will be behind me. When I can feel more myself than I feel now. But as I was wishing away the days my little girl was growing older. Her beautiful blonde hair was filling in almost daily, getting thicker and longer. She started sitting on her knees or squatting which I hadn't noticed before. Even her eyes seemed to be changing to a new shade of blue.

I realized that these precious days with my 8 month old, despite being filled with sickness, were fleeting and beautiful. And I have found beauty in my sickness.

There was beauty in the days I couldn't get out of bed and my husband would crack open the bedroom door letting light fill my darkened room. He would set Kaylee in the bed where she would quickly crawl to me, cold hands and feet finding their way against my skin. Her warm mouth searching for her source of nourishment. She would drink until she was drowsy and we would drift off into sleep together. There was beauty in the day that Kaylee sat completely still in my arms watching the birds dance wildly in the raindrops, her eyes fixated on their every move. There was beauty in the morning that neither of us felt like crawling out from the warm covers and she layed next to me, latched on, but not drinking looking around the room lost in thought. There was beauty when I sat in the corner of the living room unable to get up and move around the house, and my silly little girl made goofy faces and funny noises until we were both laughing.

Not everyday is perfect, in fact the last 14 have been as far from perfect as I can imagine, and yet, there is beauty in everyday. There is even beauty in sickness.

What I Can't Keep

Every morning I wake up amazed by you. I am still in awe that I carried you inside my body for nine months. That you can sustain life from my milk and my milk alone. I get so excited to think that you are all mine. But in reality, little one, you are not mine. You never really were. You are your own beautiful soul. You are a little spirit who can move freely around this Earth. I cannot keep you as mine just as you cannot keep the wind trapped in your closed palm. I get to care for you while you are too little to care for yourself. I get to protect, and love, and cherish you, but you aren't mine to keep. Each day I need to let you go just a little bit more as you grow independent of me. One day I won't be able to stop you from breaking completely free. Oh, how beautiful motherhood is. How beautiful to watch my heart slowly break a little more each day.

Open Letter To Friends With Babies

Dear Mommy Friends,

My daughter is approaching 5 months and to the shock and confusion of many of you my sweet daughter has never left my sight for more than 30 minutes while awake, she has never had a bottle, and has slept in my bed from the day I brought her home. My kind hearted friends, you try to tell me that I should teach Kaylee to drink from bottles so my husband can do some feedings. "You need alone time," "You could sleep while your husband does a feeding", "You could have your mom watch her for a few hours," some of you say. Many of you don't understand why I choose to bedshare. "Isn't it harder to sleep?" "Doesn't she wake more often?" Don't you want her to sleep through the night?" Many of you ask. You don't understand my lack of need for alone time, you don't understand why I feel no need to rush my daughter into being independent.

This is what you don't know my dear friends. When you spend your life believing that your biggest dream is completely and utterly unattainable and somehow magically that dream comes true, you never ever want to let it go. You spend every morning in awe that you achieved the impossible and you don't want to miss one second of living out your dreams.  I know many of you have wanted children your whole life and some of you struggled to conceive so you may have some idea why I feel the way I do. And yet it is so much more complicated than that. I know I was able to achieve my lifelong dream and I wake up everyday beyond grateful to have my daughter, but unlike you my friends, who still feel as if death is so far from reality that it never crosses your mind. I know that I stand much closer to my own demise than I would like.

I know I will likely leave my precious daughter much before either of us is ready. I know there is a chance I will miss her high school graduation, college graduation, her wedding day, her children. I want to spend as much time with her as I can while I am still healthy and very much alive. I want to ensure that my love is ingrained in her soul so that even though she will not remember these days she will remember the way I made her feel. I don't want my husband to give her a bottle even during the wee hours of the morning. I would rather her lay in my arms, feeling the softness of my skin against her skin, breathing the soft scent of my milk, my sleepiness. I want her to feel my hands stroking her hair and I want her drift to sleep to the sound of my heart. She will not remember nursing, but I hope when I pass she will still feel the warmth, love, and nourishment my body provided her. I don't want to go out shopping for the day while she stays with someone else. I want to laugh with her as she plays with her toys and makes her silly faces. I hope when I am gone she will remember the melody that the two of us made when we laughed together. I don't want to transition her to her crib, I would rather sleep with her in my bed,wrapped in my arms, dreaming side by side. I hope when she is older and I am gone she will feel the comfort my arms once provided her as she drifts off to sleep all the way until the sun comes up in the morning.

So dear friends, I know you have my best interest in my mind. I know you are looking out for me and want me to be happy. But you must understand that my daughter makes me happy and I know in my heart that what I am doing is what will bring me the most joy and peace in my life. I do not judge your shopping days away from baby, your alone time, date nights or that you are working hard to make sure baby doesn't disturb your sleep in the night, but our realities are so drastically different. And I appreciate your suggestions, but I don't feel like I am missing out on anything I will regret when my lungs give out and my body can no longer hold the little girl I spent my whole life waiting for.

The Day I Became A Mother

October 8th was a day that will be etched into my heart forever. This is a journal entry from one year ago today. 

There are certain moments that take our world, our lives, our very existence and rearrange them so drastically that our current selves, our current lives will never resemble our former selves again. These changes affect everything we think, we do, we believe. For me on the morning of October 8, 2011 two small occurrences altered my whole entire existence and I know for sure my life will never be the same.

I woke up at 8:30 feeling refreshed even after falling into bed at 1:00 am the night before. I didn't feel groggy or tired or have any desire to stay in bed for even a moment longer for the first time since I could remember. 

No, today was different, I had a mission. I needed the truth and I needed it as soon as possible even if it left me empty and hollow when I was through. The risk of the mission came from the fact that it could end so beautifully and yet it never did, leaving me cold and broken on the floor among dying dreams and fruitless wishes. I pulled my body out of the bed walking across the floor painted with sun beams from the early morning. The air was crisp and the carpet was cold against my rested feet. I woke up with a full bladder. It was the first time in a week that my bladder didn’t pull me out of bed at hours that only the moon is supposed to see. I pushed open the bathroom door and it was there in the tiny apartment bathroom, among the leaking ceiling, the cracks in the walls, and the sink that never drained right my life was forever changed. 

Two bright and happy pink lines appeared in the pregnancy test window filling my heart with a joy I have never known before. The welling of excitement bubbled from my chest to throat to my mouth. “Oh my god!” slipped from my lips first in disbelief, almost a question. It escaped again and again until it came out in a happy rush because I finally believed it to be true, “Oh my god!”  

In an instant I clutched my now occupied womb to speak to the child I have been wanting since as long as I could remember. Thoughts ran through my head so quickly it made me dizzy.  My husband  at work was oblivious to the life altering news I had just discovered which left me with this secret between me and my baby. The two of us shared our first secret, out first moment that nobody else could share. I felt an instant bond to my baby that only I knew existed.

The thoughts and questions come so quickly it makes me dizzy. I wonder if my baby will be a boy or a girl. Will my baby have my husband’s dark hair or my light hair? Will I be healthy throughout pregnancy? I think of CF and all I need to do to prepare for this child by taking care of my lungs. I think of the books I need to buy. I think of the things I promised myself I would do. I need to buy more fruit and I need to make sure I am eating for my baby and not for myself anymore. I feel mother’s guilt for the first time in that I told myself I would not drink caffeine and yet I did. I feel excited that I can feel mothers guilt because I am a mother!!

I touch my breasts knowing that they instinctively are preparing for the baby as women’s breasts have done throughout the existence of human kind. They knew before I did, preparing to nurture this child of mine before his or her existence was in my realm of knowing.  I think for once how beautiful and amazing my body is, to create a life without my knowing.  Despite the fact that my body can’t clear out my excess mucus or properly digest the food I consume this broken body can create a life and be a safe home for a new soul. I am powerful and strong. I am a mother!

Standing Still

You nestle your little face in my shoulder as your body goes limp from slumber. I nuzzle my nose to your neck. My eyes gently close as I breath in the subtle smell of milk still lingering on your breath. My arms wrap tightly around you, feeling the rise and fall of your chest beneath my palm. I could sit here forever feeling our hearts beating so close to one another.

It may have been a sudden noise or a shift in the air, I will never know, but I am pulled back to reality just as quickly as I slipped away from it.

My eyes crack open to a salt and pepper haired man standing in front of us, a toothy grin across his face. His cheeks quickly blush and he glances away, embarrassed at being caught for openly staring at such an intimate moment. He quickly whisper, "It was just so sweet" and hurries on his way across the bustling food court to place his order.

How many times since you arrived, dear Kaylee, have I gotten completely and utterly lost in the love I have for you?