This morning my daughter turned 30. At exactly 2:32 am, to be precise, thirty years ago today I became a mother for the first time. She was planned, eager awaited, and adored . . . well, at least until she turned about 15.
Being a mother was one of my life goals. I used to tell people I wanted one hundred kids (does it describe my immaturity if I tell you that I was also going to raise them in a castle?) But by the time I got married I'd decided I wanted four - two boys and two girls. I'm not sure if I truly believed I could choose, but I was adament that I'd have two of each. My husband was on board after my daughter was born - but after his son came along two years later he changed his mind. I was crushed, but I realized that it was meant to be five years later when we divorced. I had one child for each hand - what more could I handle?
My little girl brought another little girl into the world in the last year. She was planned for (though she decided that her parent's plan took too long and surprised them), she was eagerly awaited, and she is definitely adored. And I plan to be around when she turns 15 just so I can sit in the background and smile.
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Great writing. Love the part about Hannah being planned but decided to come as a surprise. It was a pleasure to spend time with those two little girls this week. They both are very special (not meaning special needs special, lol).
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