The moment I became a mother was the happiest moment of my life. Nothing that had happened prior to that moment came close to hit of euphoria I felt when my baby was born. Because what I felt was so much more than happy. It was an epic rush of unparalleled joy. I was elated at what I had done, thrilled at becoming a mum, amazed that I had created new life, stunned at the precious little bundle that was presented to me. No other joy in my 31 years held the power of that moment. I won’t sugar coat the 32 hours of hell prior to her birth. My labour was long, hard, and full of intervention. Apparently my cervix was not very cooperative (read: a little pissed off at being induced and told to “hurry up”). It decided not to play ball. After over 20 hours of intense contractions that generated minimal dilation, I accepted an epidural, defeated and exhausted. As my husband cheerfully ate a hot breakfast of sausages, eggs, bacon and toast, I wanted to slap him. But all the varicose veins, sleepless nights, hip pain, nausea, headaches, labour pains, stirrups and horrendous vacuum extraction were forgiven the moment my daughter was delivered onto my chest. With an ear-piercing wail in sync with the cracks of thunder outside, it was over. The wait was over. The nine months of anticipation were over. I had met her. I had met my daughter. I had become a mum. I was the happiest person in the world.
And that was six years ago today. Of course, I have since given birth to two more daughters and those moments were mind blowing too. But there’s only one moment you become a mum, and that’s with your first. There’s nothing quite like your first.
My darling Miss A, Thank you for imbuing my life with wonder, joy, pride and love. As a baby you were calm, settled, sleepy and cuddly; a swaddled bundle of giggles and happy squeaks. At the age of one you were walking, talking and giggling; a playful, good-humoured, easily delighted young girl. At the age of two you could recognise every letter of the alphabet; reading cereal packets and auction boards were your favourite hobby. At the age of three you started kinder, along with doggy, and your fairy friends to help ease some of your nerves. At the age of four you came out of your shell and found your voice, both literally and metaphorically. You discovered a love of art, craft and ballet. At the age of five you started school and exhibited a compassion and empathy well beyond your years. You also lost (swallowed) your first tooth! And a week before this day, the training wheels came off your bike and you started to ride alone.
Now you are six! You are the most lovely, caring, creative girl with a curiosity for life and learning that is a joy to observe. You are a loving sister, daughter, granddaughter, cousin and friend. You are an eager student, embracing school with the right measure of focus and enthusiasm. My darling girl, you will go far in life. Whatever you turn your attention to will yield incredible experiences for you. Keep feeding that greedy curiosity of yours. Keep asking questions. Keep creating. Keep drawing. Keep designing. Keep loving. The world is a much better place with you in it, my angel. Chase those dreams. Do not be limited by anything or anyone. You can do whatever you set your mind to, so DREAM BIG! I love you more than I can put in words. Happiest of birthdays, Miss A. Love Mama xx