I had given up dreams of you.
I remember the exact moment this happened. We were volunteering in the church nursery, and I was refastening the buckle on a toddler girl’s black patent shoes. The thought suddenly crossed my mind that I will never buy black patent shoes for my own girl. Immediately, I felt guilty for such a thought considering I had two healthy sons.
I replayed the moment for weeks.
I’d been a girly girl who loved my baby dolls and had aspirations of motherhood from an early age. I didn’t have brothers and found boys to be baffling, honestly.
I saw the humor and irony in becoming mom to two boys. I love your brothers fiercely, but there was something about having a daughter. As I buckled that little girl’s shoes, the stab in my heart revealed how much I wanted to share in all the mother and daughter things that I never experienced with my own mom.
Not long after, I sat in your future auntie’s living room. I was holding her newborn when she said she hoped she could return the favor someday.
“Oh, that’s not going to happen,” I said. “I’m releasing the idea of more kids. Our family is complete with two kids.”
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Getting pregnant didn’t come easy for us. After miscarrying our first baby, we were told that both the pregnancies with your brother were not viable. How I wish we had the resources for rainbows babies that I now know about. Still, both your older brothers proved how wrong the doctors were. After much discussion and prayer, we’d come to our conclusion.
The Miraculous Unexpected
Within weeks of the conversation with your auntie, Dad and I laid in bed laughing in disbelief at the positive pregnancy test. Knowing how things go for me, we quickly set an appointment for lab work. We fully expected the typical news. Unlike the previous times, all my levels were not only normal, but off the charts.
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We knew. We knew you were meant to be, boy or girl, and whatever may come. I knew that just as I surrendered my dream, God made it come true. As we debated boy and girl names, we decided this time that we would find out gender.
And there you were. Before gender reveals were a big thing, we bought a cake that said, “It’s a girl.” We had friends and family over to share our news of all things pink and girly, frills and lace.
You’ve heard this story more than once, but I share it again here. You, my girl, are the missing piece we couldn’t fully realize how much we needed. You are a dream come true. I will never take being your mom for granted.
A Broken Heritage, Building a Legacy
My mom didn’t go shopping with me, or fix my hair for prom. She had nothing to do with planning my wedding. Over and again, I’ve wrestled with the relationship I wish I had with her versus the way it is.
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You, my daughter, are where I find an indescribable redemption. With you, I get a do-over and the significance of this is more than I can describe. Together, we get to change the legacy. We get to rebuild the brokenness of past generations of moms and daughters in our family line.
Plotting your birthday parties, fixing your hair, and shopping for special occasions are not just moments to me. The shared experiences are momentous. They are cornerstones to me, building not only what I did not have, but also what I thought would never be. I sit in these moments and feel joy and wonder.
You, darling daughter, are the answer to prayers. Never forget this truth about who you are.