I sometimes wonder if she'll ever understand how much she healed me. How she changed me. In some ways how she saved me from being a completely hopeless soul. I hope someday she understands how she breathed life back into me...just by being born alive.
I don't know who I would be today if she weren't here. She's exactly everything I needed to live through my grief. To help me carry it.
I'm not a perfect parent. Not by a mile. I have a lot of help in molding who she turns out to be. And somehow, this little girl has grown into an amazing person. She's beyond smart. I don't even know how. She's a sponge who absorbs everything--language, tasks, how to ride a trike. She's empathetic and caring, and even though she can be a total asshole (like all toddlers), she knows how to show love and kindness to other people. She's funny and witty and her laugh makes me laugh.
I feel like I'm finally able to step back and see who she's turning out to be, and every day, I'm blindsided by how lucky I am to be her mama.
She may never be potty trained, but there's always Depends, and I'd buy them for her if I had to.
Tonight I put my three-year old to bed for the first time. I've been parenting a living child for three years. There's been so many ups and so many downs...but I'm trying everyday to remember to give her everything that I couldn't give her brother. For him and for her.
I feel like I fail them a lot of times...but I guess that's probably a constant feeling all parents have, right?
Anyway. Happy third birthday, my Lena Bowie.
