Wednesday was my daughter’s birthday. Not just any birthday - but her 16th birthday.
I remember when I was pregnant with her, dreaming about what her life would be like, her 16th birthday was definitely something I thought about. Sure - graduation (high school and college) and her wedding, too. Maybe if she had kids, that would be an amazing moment by far (no pressure kid) but those all seemed so far out. But 16 - that was a day I thought would go so differently than it did.
Apart from the postal delays, the tank in the stock market and the lack of resources, I just couldn’t find the words. I couldn’t find the joy. Yes, there is a pandemic going on, but I found myself literally frozen between what I hoped I could give her on this special day, and what the reality was.
Sure, she got her favorite meal (steak tacos ) and her preferred home made cake. But I honestly could not find the elasticity in my psyche to project the love and hope I needed to.
I would have normally wrapped presents the day before. When she woke up, there would have been a beautiful display of cards, and candies and doughnuts. Presents strategically placed where she would eat breakfast. Then we would have maybe done some shopping after school - or a special treat for lunch.
I would have posted something on social media talking about all the things she has taught me. All that she has given this family - and me in particular. I would have talked about how I know her future is going to be amazing.
But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I was terrified, and hiding in my closet crying most of the day. Disappointed in myself, in where we are as a society, our disassociated leadership that cares very little if at all for their constituents. And I let it get the best of me.
I had to let that sit a bit. I had to get it out of my system - at least the toxic levels that were there on what should have been a magical day.
Today, I am feeling stronger. Perhaps more used to our new normal, and I want to make it up to her. So please help me.
I am going to start by telling the world just how much having this baby girl saved my life.
When I found out I was pregnant, I cried. Not tears of joy - tears of fear. Yes, I was happy. Of course I was happy.
But, much like two days ago, I was also terrified.
I have a great Dad. But my mother wasn’t what I would call nurturing. I wish it had been different, but that is what I got. So, naturally, I assumed that the relationship I had with my mother was going to play out identically here with my daughter.
Much to my dismay, the first months were hard. She arrived 10 days late and after a very long delivery, and I was exhausted. I was so weak and shaking so much I couldn’t possibly even hold her.
When we brought her home, I struggled with nursing, and like most mothers, thought this was the end of the world.
I got postpartum depression, and like most moms, didn’t realize it.
She cried - all the time - and nursed - all the time. She would only sleep in my or Justin’s arms, and if you so much as attempted to put her some place else, the minute her head would touch the bed, she would be wide awake - and you guessed it - hungry and crying.
There were times that I thought I would never make it.
But then, after a little sleep, and in between the screaming, I would allow myself to be present. Not in a “this is an emergent situation” present, but really present. I think the first time was when we took her into the doc for one of those early appointments, and he put her on her belly and had her push with her legs to scoot. Our doctor had a voice like Fozzy the Bear, and listening to him laugh, I started to unfurl a bit for the first time. I finally allowed myself to see the magic and joy that she brought into my life. Until that moment, I was certain I was not only going to fail her, but was already actively doing so.
As she grew, I had all these ideas that I was going to teach her about life. How to be a strong woman - and not take shit from anyone. I was going to tell her how to balance that with fun and the need to throw caution to the wind. I was going to teach her about the ever present value of the perfect shoe (that of course they can be cool AND comfortable - you just have to know where to look) and how being female shouldn’t discount her from doing or being anything she wanted.
The thing is, somewhere along the way, when I thought I was teaching her all that I knew, I figured out she was really teaching me.
One of my favorite memories was her getting into the Rocketvan, I think she was in the third grade. She was upset, and sat all the way in the very back row.
I tried to ask her what was wrong. She had nothing. I asked her if she wanted to get frozen yogurt, do something fun, talk about anything - nothing.
I then tried to pry something out of her with a reference to her newly adopted guinea pig, Ginger.
“Hey honey, if Ginger had a bad day and you knew it, and she wouldn’t talk to you, what would you do?”
Her response was so classic Reese. With her hot pink bow in her hair crooked, and her arms crossed looking out the window she responded, “Well, I would just think if Ginger wanted to talk to me about something she would and if she didn’t I would just leave her alone.”
She was fearless. And kind. And shy. And scared. And smart. And struggling. And she wanted to do it all by herself.
What I learned, is that she was in my life because we needed each other. Not just her needing me - which at times it feels like she doesn’t at all. But I did really need her. To show me what I could be. And what I didn’t need to be. And who I want to be in her eyes. And also that its ok to be who I am.
I can only hope, that through this, I can offer even the smallest version of that to her.
My darling Reese - you are amazing just the way you. Never change, and please always know I love you.
Happy 16th Birthday sweetheart. Everything is going to be better than ok - its going to be amazing.