Today is my daughter’s birthday. We have had a good week together, enjoying spring break with family in Arizona where we took every opportunity to celebrate her birthday in fun and silly ways.
This morning was the official day she was born and I took a few moments to reflect on that day 14 years ago. We were able to choose her birth date since it was a full two weeks past my due date and I needed to be induced. My mom helped out with caring for the boys and we went to the hospital early although she seemed in no rush to come into this world. Things started speeding up when her heart rate began dipping each time I had a contraction and they put a mask on me so we could both receive pure oxygen. Then the doctor decided that she needed to be born ASAP. It turned out that the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck twice but fortunately all turned out well as she was delivered and the cord was removed so she could breathe normally. We had a beautiful healthy little girl and I felt so grateful.
As these memories came rushing back to me this morning…remembering that my husband was in the middle of finals for his last year of law school, remembering our little apartment, remembering how everything seemed hopeful and that our future seemed bright, I discovered the pocket of hurt. This little memory of my family intact and hopeful for the future was still tucked inside my heart and I wanted it to be real now. I found myself projecting from that time 14 years ago to a very different imaginary now and I was sad for the loss of what could have been.
That’s when I recognized quite clearly that I could choose to either ignore that little dream or honor its loss and let the tears flow. So I cried for my children growing up in a divided family, I cried for my former husband and our former relationship, I cried for the loss of my dream of happily ever after. I cried it all the way through to the other side to let it go and embrace the now of celebrating my daughter and how she blesses my life.
I suppose I’ll continue to find pockets of hurt as I remember the good times, and I expect I’ll continue to find pockets of hope while beginning to build my new life. Whichever emotion I encounter, however, I intend to give it attention, respect and gentleness, and hopefully that will better enable me to treat everyone I meet more kindly as well.
