Then and Now

My baby is five today. At 7:22 (her exact birth time...freakishly coincidental), I opened my eyes and was transported back to the hospital where she was born. While a cliche, in some moments it feels like lifetimes ago, yet in others it happened only yesterday. But here she is, several feet tall and mouthy and funny and a little person in her own right. She reads chapter books and uses multi-syllabic words and can entertain herself for hours without needing much from me at all. And I love it. This age of her burgeoning personality and strength of her moral character. This age when after witnessing an injustice on the playground, she goes to the little boy who is crying and comforts him with a few words and a gentle hug. This age when she questions everything and still believes I have the answers. It's a heady time for a mom. It is.

For me, celebrating this milestone with her is fraught with emotion. Most of the images ingrained in my mind of her first few days are shadowed with the fatigue that permeated my every pore. I was so exhausted and hormonal, the days passed in a blur. One, however, sticks out clearly. I was in bed, still in the hospital, and holding her close. I looked at her soft little head and the tears welled in my eyes. As they dripped down my cheeks, I looked at my mom who was sitting across the room and said, "if anyone ever tries to hurt her, I'll kill him". Even today -right now as I write this - the protectiveness that overcame me in that moment still makes me cry. And I'd still kill anyone who tries to hurt her.

Beyond these memories and emotions, thought, lie others that are accentuated with question marks and nuance. Five years ago I never expected to be here - a single mother once again responsible for ...well, everything. Or maybe in some deep part of me I did. I don't know anymore. In many ways, I don't recognize the woman I was then. And in other ways, there are parts of me who nostalgically wish I were still more like her. Still willing to live a simpler life. Still willing to demand less of myself and others. Still willing to fall asleep (or awake at 3 am) without writing a list of unachieved goals. But I'm not. I'm someone else now. A more authentic self. A stronger self. A more interesting self. And I'm learning to recognize her. To like her - so in another five years when my daughter is ten, I'm not looking back trying to figure out who I am but instead looking forward...or even better - standing still in wonder at how fulfilled my life is.