Hey sweet girl! You’re sleeping next to me right now, looking a lot like this…
We had your big pre-op appointment today. A physical exam, EKG, Chext Xray and a much dreaded blood draw. You did great though. You told the Phlebotomist, “I might cry, but I’ll hold my arm still so you don’t have to do the poke twice. That would hurt more.” You hopped up onto my lap and did just what you had said you would. Tears rolled down your face, but you held totally still. That Phlebotomist sees tons of kids every day and she said she had never met a 4-year-old quite like you.
I’m not sure anyone else has either.
Sometimes, in my worst moments, I wonder if you’re too amazing. Were you put here to teach me, and the rest of the world who encounters you, an amazing lesson, and then, when that’s done, will you just disappear? Do all mamas think all their babies are this amazing? I know they do. I feel that way about all your brothers and sisters. But, you, my sweet girl, you have overcome amazing things. How much further can you keep going?
Someone asked me this week what I was praying for. For you, no fear, and the least amount of pain possible. For me, more time. That is all I ask for…more time. I want to see you grow, graduate, marry whoever you fall madly in love with, and then go on to adopt all the babies you always tell me about. As we folded laundry together just 48 hours ago, we talked about how someday I would come to your house and while you played with all your babies, I would help you fold your laundry, just because I want to be near you and your amazing kids. You agreed that would be just fine.
Then you told daddy he should probably cook the dinner though.
You’re wicked smart, but you also have some wonderful self-preservation skills. I love you for that too.
–FullPlateMom, who still can’t cook.