It Should Be Said…

I am the mother of a seven year old daughter.  I didn’t know I would have a daughter until she was placed on my chest and I begged her to take her first breath.  But after that first inhalation, as her body turned from that terrible lifeless blue-grey into a beautiful living pink, I knew I had a daughter.  Having a daughter is a gift and yet a struggle in ways that having a son is not.  Oh, I worry about all of them.  I worry about how they will grow into the people they can be.  But I worry a bit more about her.  Mostly because I know what it feels like to be a girl in this world and so I worry a bit differently about her than my boys.  But worry is not enough.  So I have spent my entire parenting life trying to teach all my children to love themselves and to love others; to see their own gifts and to see other’s gifts as well; to be whole and happy, and made stronger by the challenges they face.  But still I worry.  Because as much as I love my dear children, and as many times as I have told them they are wonderful, I am like a broken bird with wings taped back together.  How can I show them how to fly when I can barely leave the ground myself?

Continue reading