I was twelve when Sierra was born. I had to wait through four brothers before I finally got the little sister I had been asking for. Her timing was a little rough though. In order to bring her into this world mom had her first C-section and Dad had surgery on his back just days before. So I spent the first two weeks of her life holding her. With both parental units bedridden I was the one walking the floors with the newborn. I discovered that the giant exercise balls was perfect to sit on and bounce a crying baby while watching black and white movies. Looking back on it I realize two things. 1) that ball and constant bouncing is probably the reason Sierra will never suffer motion sickness. 2) I'm shocked I didn't kill us both with that ball.
I used to sing Sierra to sleep almost every night and to this day she is still the only one who knows just how awful my voice is. When I got home from dance practice I'd hold her in my arms and walk through the steps in the kitchen (tile makes spinning easier). And I watched Lion King over and over again with her while discreetly working on homework.
One night stands out clearly. Sierra was about one and a half, maybe two years old. I was trying to get her to lay down for the night. She had the giggles, was just plain slap happy. Her laughter was bright, happy and innocent and so very infectious. And just as suddenly she curled up in my lap and cashed out. I sat there with her against my chest for an hour, just holding her warm little body. I remember thinking, as long as she is happy and loves me... that's all I need in my life. I will have lived my life right if I can keep her that way.
Adults have been telling me since I was 19 that my biological clock will start ticking. Any day now. But what they don't understand is that I already raised my family. I already had my baby. And she's 14 years old and beautiful and sweet and smart as a whip. She's a swimmer and already swimming varsity even though she's a freshman.
Congrats on your first high school swim meet little squirt.
This is wonderful. She's just as lucky to have you.
ReplyDeleteAnd, for what it's worth, if you ever decide to be a biological mom, I think you'd be a fantastic one.