To my darling baby girl,
On the day you were born, it wasn’t just my world that changed forever. I changed forever. My heart, my mind, my being; they are all unrecognisable since. You have touched, enriched and changed every single thing about me as a person.
When I went into labour, all I was concerned about was having a VBAC. Looking back I reflect on how naïve I was; I knew nothing of what was coming. I knew nothing of the massive journey we were about to embark on together.
When my waters broke they were green – how panicked would I have been if I had known then that you had Cystic Fibrosis. The idea of you inhaling meconium into your vulnerable little lungs would have sent me into a total tailspin. But despite the meconium, your heart rate stayed steady – you were cool as a breeze. And four years later, you still are.
I had to be sectioned in the end, but once again, you took the procedure in your stride. Me on the other hand? I had a haemorrhage and lay shaking uncontrollably on the operating theatre. My body was in shock and I remember the unsettling feeling of not being able to control the movement of my limbs. They went to put you on my chest and I was terrified because I couldn’t calm my body down. I didn’t want you to fall. I wanted to protect you. But when they placed you on my chest, my body instantly became still. It was like you had some magical, spiritual quality. You soothed my entire being. And you still do. Every single day. I don’t know how you do it, but you do. As your mother, I feel it should be my job to settle you, yet it is you who settles me.
As soon as they lifted you, I began quaking again.
You were born with a tough set of genetics; a health challenge that is daunting to say the least. But you were also born tough. I’ve never met a little girl with so much courage or personality. With your crazy curls and the positivity that oozes out of your pores, you light up every single room you enter.
You move like a dancer. Negotiate like a chancer. Hug like a bear. You speak with words beyond your years. You somehow always know what to say to lighten the mood. You empathise and notice people’s moods in a way I never thought possible for a person who has only been here four short years. No matter what is going wrong, it is impossible not to smile in your presence. While I live with fear in my heart as we fight CF together, I also live with an abundance of love, laughter and hope.
I may be more anxious than I have ever been in my life, but I am also more happy than I have ever been. Because you, my little lady, are infectious. Your giggle, your personality, your attitude – you are truly magnetic.
I know parents are supposed to remind themselves that their children are their children, not their friends. But I don’t care what the books say. You are my very best friend on this planet. Everything in my life is better in your presence. I love everything about you and I always will.
You may have been dealt an imperfect set of genes, but don’t let that hold you back. Always remember that you are powerful, you are precious, YOU ARE PERFECTION.