A letter to my little girl...

Hey there Kiddo,

So now that you are old enough to read this I hope that you are enjoying learning about the journey we endured together as you entered into this world.  You truly are a miracle!  From your perfect little fingers to your perfect little toes that I got to see today.  I can’t wait to meet you, to touch you, to hold your little fingers in mine.  You are my strong fighter…even before you took your first breath here on earth you were tough.  You keep me strong!

We found out today that you are a GIRL!!!, although you made it hard for us to see.  You had the hiccups and were quite the mover.  You must like the spotlight because you wouldn’t turn your head for a profile shot.  You wanted to stare right at the camera.  I get it…that’s not my best side either.  The doctor told us that you look perfectly healthy!  I was so thrilled to hear that and as soon as the words left her lips I had tears in my eyes.  I know without a doubt what your movements feel like now and they seem so much more apparent to me.  In fact, I’m finding it hard to focus at work….you really like to kick.  I’m completely ok with this because I feel like it’s your way of telling me you’re alright…despite it all.

Your dad had quite the twinkle in his eye when he saw you today.   You are going to have an amazing father (wait, you already know this).  He’s endearing and protective and wants so much to care for us.  He is the emotional one.  I wish I was more like that.  I’m sure you will melt his heart and have him wrapped around your finger.  He tells me you are going to be the next Danica Patrick.  I’m sorry your toy room is decorated with cars.  Your dad and your grandpa are what we call “Motor-heads”… they will probably push this on you.  It’s not that bad.  Some day when your tire is flat on the side of the road you will be thankful.

You are oh so special…please never forget that.  I know you must have such an important purpose to contribute to this world given our circumstances.  I cannot wait to see you grow up (and of course once you are, I will wish that you didn’t do it so fast).  Your dad thinks you will someday find the cure for cancer.  I hope you don’t, only because I wish there to be one by then….so you won't have to worry about it, ever again. 

We spent tonight poking at you.  Your dad likes to talk to you through my belly button, like he is on a megaphone.  I wish you could see it.  I’ll try to catch it on camera.  It cracks me up. 

I’m sure there will be times when you don’t like me as you grow up.  I remember…same happened with my mom and me.  But if at any time you wonder how much you mean to me please remember… you are my miracle and I fell in love with you as soon as I knew you were here with us.  You helped save me in more ways than one and for that I feel so blessed to have you call me your mom. 

Love, Mom