Okay, tomorrow came a little earlier than expected. I did mention I had a 6 month old so I am sure all you moms know why I've decided to write right now.
Where was I? Ah yes, my other not so little one. RD, my daughter. I thought it only fitting that on Valentine's Day I post about my first true love. May seem strange to some for me to call my daughter my first love but she most truly was. In many cases people do not really understand what love is until they hold their own child for the first time. It would be wonderful if I could say that was how it happened for me, but unfortunately her birth did not go as expected and I did not get to experience that life changing moment of holding your new baby seconds after birth. As can often happen, I was whisked off to surgery, but all is well in the end so no need to dwell on that point. In retrospect, I think I actually first loved her the very first time I felt her move in my belly. The first distinctive butterfly movement and I was hooked.
I knew I was having a baby girl from the start. Many women claim such a thing and it is hard to explain why, but I knew it from the first time someone asked me. I did love RD right away and always have, regardless of the many times I wished I had not been pregnant as a teen. When questioned my answer has always been the same; I always regret getting pregnant, but I never once regretted having her.
It was hard. Not as hard as it is for some as I had the support of my family, but it most certainly was never easy. I committed myself to finishing school and completing my degree, which meant holding down a job as well in order to pay for things. RD was born in September and I returned to school two weeks after and work just one week after that. Now that was a hard year! By RD's first birthday I had been back in the hospital due to complications, lost my Grandpa to cancer, dealt with a terrible personal relationship, completed my OACs and moved away to university. This does not, of course, include all the wonderful nuances of the high school life coloured with the brush of social interpretation of my situation. The hi-light of the year was that, given RD stayed at home with my parents when I went to school, I missed my baby girl's first birthday.
Over the next five years I missed a lot. My parents did their best to make me feel like I was around for the important things. They even brought RD to see me at school often and she just happen to have her first steps in my dorm room, something I pretended to believe partly for them but mostly for my own sanity. No matter how you look at it though, RD was growing up with or without me. I would love to say I remember a lot about her as a child but really what I recall is mostly bits and pieces strung together by pictures and stories told by my parents. When I finally graduated I like to think that I did my best to change that.
I am going to stop there for now, as I think the littler one has decided to sleep so I should do the same. Chances are I will continue these thoughts a little later today, as time allows.
Until then,
FBM
No comments:
Post a Comment