A Dedication to My Youngest, My Why
“I don’t know how I would have navigated this path without you.”
That’s right sweet girl—becoming a doula, a childbirth educator, a lactation counselor, a pelvic floor specialist—you’re my reason WHY.
My body felt every ache. Every emergency room visit to make sure your heart was still beating. Every ultrasound check to see if my uterus hadn’t decided to give up. All ‘normalcy’ to me flew out the window as I had to learn how to eat differently, breathe differently, walk differently, and exercise differently. For weeks I wondered if this excursion would lead to more active labor signs. My water slowly leaked. My mucous plus slowly made an appearance.
You’re biggest love, our dog, knew I needed to take a long walk that day. He knew you were coming.
You entered the world right on the dot of your expected due date as if you knew all along when you would make that entrance. You only waited 30 minutes after entering the hospital to make your earth side appearance. You knew what you were doing.
For weeks we shared a hospital bed together as my body fought infection after infection. My heart broke when I had to be separated from you for a surgery. Another ultrasound. Another cut at my uterus to try to figure out what was going on. My heart just wanted to know the milk I had pumped was enough for your growing body.
The medical community never gave me an answer but you never hesitated to snuggle in on me even more. For weeks as I hobbled around the house with you in my arms you would sleep up in the nook of my neck until you no longer fit there.
Your sweet smile for our much needed passports was unexpected and unplanned as you recognized my eyes on you. My eyes that never seemed to leave yours. I’ve always believed our forced weeks together in the hospital created a force unlike any other.
My tornado, my dare devil, my beautiful, forever baby girl—you are my WHY.
Update to Article:
I originally wrote this post for just my social media accounts, but then realized after re-reading it (several) times over, and tearing up every time, that I must share this memory of my emotional recap of the birth of my third baby. I commonly tell my clients how important it is to share your stories. This is some of my story.
All the best,