To my Peanut, my Peet, on her 15th Birthday:
Sometimes life gives us lemons. Sometimes we were the ones
that went and picked them off the tree we weren’t supposed to touch. In either
case, the opportunity to make lemonade is there.
I wanted to tell you the story of when I, and subsequently
your Dad, found out we were going to have you. You know that we hadn’t planned
on having kids, but I wonder if you know how head over heels in love we were
with each other? How much time we spent together – laughing and arguing and
debating and having fun? We had already decided we were going to spend our
lives together before we found out about you. We hadn’t made anything official,
and there was no wedding planned, or even an explicit conversation. But we
knew.
The day I found out the flu I had was going to last another
8 months I experienced a wild ride of emotions. I told you how I took those pregnancy
tests, all by myself at home, and watched incredulously as the two pink lines
appeared. Was I scared? Yes. Was I prepared? No. Did I question my ability to
be a good parent. Yes? Did I ever, for one single second, think of making a
choice other than to have you? No. Not even once. Not a single solitary second
did even one single thought go through my mind. I knew that this was a done deal. That
I was going to be a Mom. So when I hear you talk about how you were an
accident, well I guess that depends on how you define accident.
Accidents are simply an event that you didn’t expect, or plan, to occur. It was no secret. And I didn’t want it to be. I didn’t want to lie
to you. To tell you that we were married before you came along, as though it
was everything we expected and planned. I could only imagine what the impact on
you would be if you had thought that, and found out later that things were
different. The thing is, life is filled with accidents; some change your life
for the better – like the universe giving you a gift that you never knew you
wanted, and, of course, sometimes they aren’t so awesome.
But you, my girl, were the best surprise I’ve ever gotten. Nothing
and no one could’ve prepared me for what I was to gain by that “accident” - which,
if you don’t mind, I’d like to reclassify in your vocabulary as a surprise.
Because that’s really what you were.
And as we've travelled down this path to your adulthood, we have
faced challenges. And we will continue to face challenges. (Frankly, life would
be pretty boring without its challenges.) But I need you to know this, and I
need you to feel it deep in your gut, and I need you to understand that with
all my being, with all my words, thoughts and feelings, there has never once,
not one single tiny little microsecond, been a time when I have regretted the
surprise that I got that day.
I knew from the second that I knew that you were a little
tiny living peanut in me that I would somehow figure out to give you everything
that I ever wanted; to give you all the support, and love, and caring that you
would ever need to be happy and successful in this life.
And then, after four days of trying to get you out here to
meet us, you finally joined our family in this world, and it only strengthened my
conviction. I knew the second I saw that little bloody body held up over the
tarp they draped between my face and my belly that there wouldn’t be ANYTHING
that I wouldn’t do for you – to protect you, to keep you healthy, to keep you
strong and able, to give you or to want for you.
So please, please understand that there is no word that can
describe the love a mother has for their child – no matter the circumstances of
how they got there. I love you more than you will ever be able to understand.
Until maybe you become a mom yourself.
There is nothing else in the universe like it.
I love you and I can’t wait for our journey ahead.
