Thirty years.
Yup. My oldest daughter is 30 years old today.
Thirty years ago today at this precise moment, I was staring at her in her little baby bed right next to me in the clinic where she was born. She was born in the rural Midwest, after a short labor, and was a whopping 8 lbs 12 oz. My mom was there in the delivery room, her dad and half-brother were out in the waiting room, and there was only a midwife and a doctor present besides us. Looking back, it was quite remarkable that nothing went wrong because I remember asking why she was blue when she came out. Nothing went wrong, and five minutes after she was born, I got off the delivery table (like an exam table) and walked across the hall to the recovery room. I was only 19, so what did I know about anything? I just knew I had the most beautiful little daughter in the world. I could not sleep and could not stop staring at her. I am still in awe of her and who she has become.
I wish I had a scanner so I could scan and post some of her baby pictures, or what she looked like when she was little, but really, all you have to do is look at my grandson above, and picture him as a little girl and you can visualize my daughter.
She was born a little mommy, always looked out for her little sister after she came along, and she is still the best mommy and big sister around. She’s a great daughter, and I’m so proud of her and what she’s done with her life. She is a better mommy than I ever was. She amazes me with the things she thinks up to do with the kids – like letting them play with shaving cream on the kitchen table. I would never have thought of those things. She’s quick-witted, funny, crafty, sentimental, loving, smart, generous, sensitive, and wise beyond her years. She is giving her family everything I had wished I could have given her growing up. She is truly remarkable – I know that’s cliché, but it’s true.
Happy 30th Birthday, Cindy. I’m so glad you chose me for your mommy.
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