“You’re pregnant!” The words I had been waiting for throughout my adult life were finally being spoken to me.
I had my husband, a house, a good job. Life was good.
When I found out we were having a girl, I sighed a huge sigh of relief.
Yes, I thought. He gave me what I needed.
I was already a bonus mom to four amazing boys. But, I knew we needed a girl to balance life out. I knew the bond between father and daughter was like nothing else.
Dads are their sons’ first heroes. Dads are their daughters’ first loves.
After what seemed like the hottest summer I had ever encountered (the extra 55 pounds didn’t help much) she entered the world.
It was a long, painful labor. As they weighed her in at a healthy 9lbs, I could hear the monitor next to me beeping uncontrollably.
I thought, Was she okay? but couldn’t get words out.
It wasn’t her.
In that moment, I saw my lifeless body from above.
My husband was whisked away to hold our new baby girl.
The nurses were running in and out while my family waited in shock.
Time was standing still.
I didn’t know if I would make it to see her.
But He put me back into place.
He put her in my arms.
I was whole again.
And a few months later, I broke.
The endless amount of sleepless nights.
The pressure.
Am I good enough? A good enough mom? A good enough wife?
I told myself no. Over and over again.
I loved her beyond words. More than anyone or anything I’d ever loved before.
But I was broken by her.
This beautiful, healthy, happy baby, broke me into a million pieces.
While my husband was tirelessly trying to help me, I begged Him to help me.
Pleaded every night when she woke up crying.
I would hold my face to hers as I rocked her back to sleep.
Please, make this go away. Her life will be better without me.
But He didn’t.
He knew I needed her.
And she needed me too.
I went to appointments, trying to convince my doctor I wasn’t crazy.
“You’re not crazy,” she told me. “You are the 1 in 5.”
There was a feeling of peace I had longed for, knowing I wasn’t being eaten alive by depression and anxiety.
I worked through the bad days.
For her.
I learned how to release every emotion instead of holding it in.
For her.
I learned how to ask for and seek help, all while I received so much grace from my loved ones.
For her.
And wow, did I savor all the moments.
If He had given in to my cries, as I so effortlessly give into hers, I wouldn’t get to see this.
I wouldn’t get to have her.
Her first words.
Her first steps.
Her first day of school.
Her first dance recital.
Her bad days.
Her amazing ones.
He knew she needed her mama.
More importantly, He knew her mama needed her too.