From the moment I found out I was pregnant with you, I imagined holding you in my arms. I stared at that little white stick in our white stucco bathroom and knew I was having a daughter.
As my pregnancy progressed, your father and I never found out 'officially' whether we were going to have a boy or girl but we just knew that you were our baby girl, Avalon. Our Avalon that we had talked about being ours since before we had married.
Never in a million years could I have imagined, or prepared myself, for the overpowering sense of joy, love and fear I would feel when you finally arrived; smooth, tiny and slippery in my arms as we shared our first cuddle. Fear may sound like a funny emotion to have after you were born but I was scared for you coming into this world and the trials you may face. it is not always a kind place, and the thought of you being hurt by someone filled me with dread.
I made a decision to do everything in my power to make this place safe and loving for you and that would start from your very first day with us.
As we near your first birthday, I reflect on the past year and what it has meant to our family. The year has been the hardest I have ever experienced, yet and most importantly, it has been the most joyous, fulfilling, empowering and life affirming. What was life like before we knew you? I can hardly remember. I think it involved a little more sleep.
I want you to know that you have the most wonderful Father that any child could ask for; so patient and kind, so loving and intelligent. He is the first man to love you, although undoubtedly not the last... you are a lucky girl and I am confident that you will always feel safe and secure in Daddy's arms. I would love to think you will always light up as he enters the room, but after being a teenager, I know that sometimes these things subside.
I am learning everyday through you how to be a Mum. I take my cues from you. All I know how to do for sure is love you and that I do with all I have and my every breath. I am far from perfect, I make mistakes, but I promise each day to do better, and be more forgiving of myself.
Through you I am discovering patience like I have never possessed, I am understanding what it is like to be truly needed, to fulfil a role in your life that no other person every could. For this I thank you.
As you grow, I hope you know that I am here for you. First and foremost. Whether you are 4 or 40 years old. My wish for you is to be happy; truly and deeply happy. I hope that you find your path in your own time, and in your own way- and I promise you this- I WILL support you.
I look forward to the day when you find a love that will rock you to your soul and hope you find a partner that will complement you so completely. That you will be shown no little than the utmost respect and love from a mate.
That is my wish for you.
I thank you each and every day for being in my life.... for BEING my life... and for teaching me to be a better woman.
I aspire one day you read these words but that you will not need them to know how very loved, protected and respected you are.
* This post came about after seeing a note from The Feminist Breeder. I thought it was a wonderful idea to share with others and most importantly, Avalon.
Aaah, this is so, so, SO beautiful & I can relate to every word - especially the bit about fear. I've also never been a very patient person and I used to worry that I wouldn't have enough patience with my baby while I was still pregnant. I've amazed myself at just how patient I am with Noah, though. That (and learning to live in the present & cherish each moment) is quite possibly the best lesson he has taught me so far.
ReplyDeletePS: Avalon was a gorgeous, gorgeous baby - and has grown into such a beautiful little girl (from pics I've seen on FB)