This Post Dedicated to the Poor Lady at Starbucks Who Had the Misfortune of Asking Me How My Day Was

June 8, 2001 (Excerpted from my Pregnancy Journal)

GIRL! GIRL! GIRL! GIRL! We're having a girl! Yaaaaay!!! I met you today, little girl. We had our first ultrasound and I saw you move! I saw you kick! You're the size of an avocado and you look like a little gymnast in there! I am blessed. All I wanted was a daughter. All I wanted was you. A baby girl!

~~~
Today

I crept into your dark room early this morning and watched you sleeping. Your long lean leg thrown over the covers, your tousled blonde hair spread out on the pillow. Your collection of stuffed animals are strewn around you, a comfort you require to fall asleep.

You have your "meme" (aka - my gym shirt, which I hastily took off and thrust at you in a desperate attempt to get you to stop crying five years ago and which hasn't left your side since) snuggled up to your face. Your left hand hangs off to the side, the thumb having been abandoned in your deep sleep.

I've been pretty good about you starting Kindergarten today. I've been resolved that this is going to be the beginning of a great new adventure for both of us.

But, looking at you lying here, in all your big girl-ness... I can hardly race out of your room in time before the sobs come.

~~~
June 11, 2001

I felt you move today! There's actually a baby inside me! I woke up at 3:00 this morning and felt a flutter, like little butterflies flapping their wings. I held my stomach and waited. Ah! There it was again! You! I feel you! I lay there in the dark in amazement, willing you to move again. This is real. A real baby. All mine.
~~~
Today

You will not take no for an answer. You are definitely wearing your white tank top underneath your monkey shirt for your first day of school. And no, you will not wear socks. They make your feet hurt and you can't run fast, you cry.

You direct me in the mirror while I put your hair into ponytails. You tell me exactly how you want each hair and, oh my God, are those yellow rubber bands (?) because you specifically said "orange".

You skip to the front door and throw your Hannah Montana backpack (which mommy found on Ebay and then won in a bidding frenzy with 16 other desperate mothers) over your shoulder.

"Come on, mom! I want to be early" you chirp and skip out to the car.

I suddenly cannot believe you're so big. When did you get so tall? Wasn't it yesterday that you were five pounds? Wasn't it yesterday that when I would hold your tiny premature baby self on my shoulder you would curl into a "C" as you were inside me?

~~~
September 8, 2001

We're going to name you Savannah. I hope you like it. I've loved that name since I was a little girl. It's hard to name you before I even meet you. I can't wait to lay eyes on you! My little princess! The thought that I'll be holding you in my arms in two short months is so overwhelming. What a miracle.

Please be safe in there. You are so precious to me.

~~~
Today

You're racing across the grass toward the school and I'm letting you.

"Come on, mom!" you call back to me.

But, wait. I want to look at you. I want to remember this moment forever. This image of you - your enthusiasm, your joy, your perfection.

We walk up to the classroom together, your hand in mine.

I have to let go of your hand today.

The hand that I created inside me.

The hand that played with my hair and stroked my face while I nursed you.

The hand that wrapped itself around my finger so tightly while you took your first tentative steps.

The hand that I taught to wave bye-bye.

The hand that is now waving bye to me.

Please be safe in there, I think. You are so precious to me.