I remember it like it was yesterday. Chad and I walked into a dimly lit hospital room. I was wearing leggings and rain-boots. I had on a teal sweatshirt. The nurse gave me a gown and told me to change before she came back with my medication. A painful, long, and exhausting 40+ hours later she was laid on my chest after a labor than ended in a cesarean.
We bonded the minute our eyes met. I had a hard time letting anyone else hold her, because I needed to feel the warmth and weight of her body on my chest. I had waited years for that feeling. It’s hard for me to imagine my life without her. It’s hard for me to remember what life was like before her.
I spent the first three years of her life at work. We saw each other in the evenings for a few hours, but I still feel like I missed so much of her life. She grew and learned a lot in those short three years. She’ll be four in October. Four years goes by faster than you know when you’re trying to hold on to the very thing that God created you to do. It’s like she slips away from me a little more each morning when the sun comes up. One day older. One day closer to being the person God created her to be.
It’s hard to believe that my little girl is big enough to carry a backpack, that she can recognize her name on her cubby and mailbox, or tell you her address or phone number, but she can. And she can write her name and count well past 20. She can remember things we said or did a year ago, she loves reading and singing and dancing. She can tell you all about the solar system and Moana. It’s hard for me to remember that, although I’d like to believe it, she wasn’t born yesterday. She’s far from that 7lb 8oz baby they laid in my arms.
On Monday, Chad and I walked into a brightly lit pre-school with our daughter, our son also in tow. Things have changed, but it felt a little bit familiar. We were about to start a new journey together just like we did in October of 2014. I’m proud of us. I’m proud of her.
This is Artifact Motherhood; a collaboration of artists from around the world who have come together to share our stories of the joys and struggles of our journey. Through our writings and visual records, we want to create memories that are more than photographs with dates written on the back. These are the artifacts we are leaving behind for our children and for generations to come. Please check out, April, the next artist in our blog circle, and continue through all the artists until you get back to me!
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Dear Lauren, the love you have for your children is palpable in every post you write… that´s wonderful… 🙂
From the experience with my three children I dare say though, that children already are exactly the persons God wants them to be – and the art of raising a child is exactly this: to just look and see what´s there, in your child, and let it live his or her talents , follow their interests – even if they are contrary to your own… of course they need to learn a lot, how to deal with their emotions, e.g. etc. – I don´t mean that – I just wanted to convey what I learned while raising my kids: I had a lot of expectations, unconsciously, how I wanted my children to be – but they are, in a sense, already perfect…. but perhaps you know this already… 😉
All the best to you and your family!
Carola, that means a lot! Thank you so much!
Hi Lauren, I love reading your post. Your daughter is so cute and clever too!
Oh how this have me the feels!!! I seriously got teary eyed. You write and capture your everyday so beautifully. I hope she has a wonderful year full of lots of wonder and new adventures.
that was so incredibly beautiful and heartfelt that I’m sitting here crying! And your images are incredibly inspiring such a wonderful storyteller you are!xx
Oh my, this… so so good. I’ve been feeling the same way also being a working momma. My 4 year old starts preschool this coming week and I’m all sorts of teary eyed about it. Beautiful storytelling with you images!