August 24, 2011

Dear Lucia,





We are planning your first birthday party. I am reminded how bittersweet of a moment this is. I remember last summer, and I remember what it felt like when you moved and kicked, when you headbutted my ribs. I am remembering swollen feet and aching back. I remember never having to be separated from you. Today I am at work, and you are at home, and you have a fever. I wish I could go hold you and comfort you. Lately, when I hold you, I sense how much you miss me and need me to hold you. You hug me. Your face lights up when I come home. I miss you during the day, and I think of you often. Working has not gotten easier, but I do it. I am remembering last year, today, we had an ultrasound. I was 36 weeks pregnant. You were about 7 lbs! We found out that since you were breech we'd have to have a csection. We found out that at the next appointment, we'd schedule your birthday. I hated this, wanted a surprise, wanted a natural birth (with epidural on standby). Well, we got one. We know where the story goes from here.





An entire year has passed. It's been a roller coaster. I've tried to enjoy as much as I can and not live in fear, not worry, but I'd be lying if I said I never worried. I want nothing but the best for you. You are becoming such a little strong personality, such a fighter, such a big girl. You are starting to cruise, take steps. It's all up from here. I think that we will both breathe a sigh of relief when you are crawling and walking. It's like those are the big milestones. Every other little detail, we can deal with. You still have some feeding challenges, but so be it. You are here, and you are so alive. That's what counts. You are eating more and more finger foods, preferring to feed yourself. You are Miss Independent. You continue to be so happy, laughing, talking, singing. You have 1000 different expressions, and each one is full of your beautiful sense of humor, your energy, your light. You are living up to your name's meaning. You are such a beacon of light in my world. No matter what happens in the day to day, you are this glowing light at the day's end. You are such a delight to come home to. Some nights I don't get as much time to spend with you as I'd like. Rather than let this depress me, I try to focus on every second I have and enjoy it. You have taught me to live in the moment. When something catches up with me, and I'm with you, you distract me. You bring me back to present.





Daddy and I have savored every minute and will continue to do so. We've not let the pain and anguish of your start in life take that away. That being said, it's hard to believe what we have overcome together. I look at a year's worth of pictures, and it's amazing, how far you have come. I know you won't remember any of it. We'll tell you one day. We'll take you to Philadelphia, where doctors fought 24/7 to save your life, to preserve your brain, keep you alive and safe. We'll show you where you were taken by helicopter, hooked up to life supports, where I lived every day for a month, by your side. I'm so grateful for this year. I don't know what I would have done, and I can't imagine life without you. I am so grateful for you, for my daughter. I love you so much. I cannot wait to celebrate your birthday, focus on the joy that entered my world on that day and honor the pain as well.


Love, Mama