Growing Pains

I saw it for the first time last night. As the pale light from the bathroom washed over your sunkissed Florida cheeks, I could see it all so clearly. Though you have cheeks for days still, the "baby-ness" of your face is melting away. Your once chubby arms, perfect in their rolls and width, have slimmed out and are now long and graceful. I could see it all in the dimness of the night, as you so peacefully snuggled between your daddy and me.

I could see the little girl you were becoming. Though still a baby in my heart, your baby days are quickly fading into the past. In the cut of your chin and the profile of your face - that face that could be an exact replica of your grandmother's - I could see you as a teenager. Young but independent, as vibrant and fierce as you are today. I stared at your long lashes and the lips you inherited from your daddy and saw you at my age. 30. Would you have your own babies? Live down the street or half a world away? Wherever you are, whoever you are... you won't be the little baby that sits in my lap while we read, letting me twirl your curls around my finger and softly singing along with lullabies. You won't be the sweetheart reaching for my hand, even if its just so I will join you in the kitchen or so you have my complete undivided attention. I could see your face then just as clearly as I see it now

24 hours old. 

And as I looked at your face, as I saw with certainty that the baby was fading and the forever you - the you that we would recognize for decades to come - was emerging with a fearful rapidness, my heart broke. I longed to tuck you under those covers and keep you there forever, safe and happy, awash in the love of your parents and extended family and dearest friends. I wanted to stop the clock so that you would only know this beauty of childhood, when all is well and happy and exciting. Before you could discover that the world can be scary and sad and hard. So hard sometimes, my girl.

I laid there and it felt like for a moment time stood still. Your soft breathing competed with your dad's and the rain on the window to be the loudest noise in the otherwise quiet night. And I prayed for you. Fervently and honestly, it poured out of me. Let you be loved. And safe. And healthy. Content with who you are and easily able to find the happiness in your own skin that evades so many women today. Let this country you call home remain strong and free and brave, while it seems the world spins out of control. Let you know Christ and love and live for Him. Let your heartbreaks be small and your victories be humble. Let you have strength for the hardest of times and a softness for those around you.

And I prayed for your daddy and myself. That we would be what you needed when you needed it. That we would be role models for you. That our sacrifices would give you the material things you needed but not be so much that they took away the time and attention you need. That we would be there for you, a steady presence in an otherwise unsteady word.

18 months old

As I prayed, I felt a calmness pour over me... a sense of peace about letting you grow up. I stared at your sweet face, your dad's just in the background, and thought of all the most precious moments in my life. Since I grew up, there has been so much joy and love. While I recall my childhood with such tenderness and fondness, those sweetest moments of life - the ones that can bring me tears of happiness with just the slightest amount of reminiscing - are all those that happened since I grew up. The first time your dad told me he loved me. When he asked me to marry him on your aunt's front porch and then vowed his love in the church where I was baptized. Holding you when you were just hours old. The quiet summer evenings when you were so very new and we just rocked you endlessly. The first time you called me "Mommy." Even with the worst of heartaches - losing your beloved ganma - there was sweetness in our friends and family rallying around us. The stories we were told, the shoulders we cried on, the meals we were fed. So much beauty and joy in the love of others.

These are the moments that fill my heart when the rest of the world seems dark and lonely. These are the moments I want you to experience. Yes, the world is dark and scary. Your heart will be broken and your knees skinned. But there is so much beauty and wonder about it all. So much happiness and love to be experienced. So many adventures still to have.

So today, my darling, I am okay if you grow up just a little. If you become a little bit more of your forever you and a little less of my baby. Just not too fast, my girl. Not too fast.

2 1/2 years old