Last July 8, was the last full day my sweet angel resided within my belly, stretching my body and mind to unimaginable limits. It’s the last time I felt her kick and hiccup inside me. It’s the last time I had to wonder what she would look like.
Last July 8, I checked in to a hospital to begin the grueling process of evicting my stubborn baby from my body. It was a day full of conflicting emotions – anxiety, insecurity, excitement and eager happiness. It was the last day my husband and I spent as a duo and we made the most of it – sleeping in late, lounging around, swimming, watching an all day marathon of Impractical Jokers on TruTV and anticipating the arrival of the tiny being that was about to wreck havoc on our lives while simultaneously filling every moment with wonderment and joy. Our conversations that day were peppered with statements like “within the next 24 hours we will be holding our baby girl,” and “at this time tomorrow we will be parents.” We savored every fleeting moment of the calm and relaxation.
I still remember every detail of last July 8, like it was yesterday, my last full day of carrying a child in my womb. I remember the feelings and the worries and the relief that finally, after nine tumultuous months, I only had to wait a few more hours before I would finally come face to face with my heart’s true wish, my deepest yearning, my most beautiful creation, my living proof that God answers prayers.
I miss the person I was back on this day one year ago but I love and embrace the woman my daughter has made become in the year since – a mother.
