I miss my daughter, Alexandra, so much. Wish I could go back and enjoy my daughter’s birth more, but is that possible? I had no pain medicine and my contractions were constant with no relief. My breathing was shallow. It got to where I wasn’t breathing enough for Alex. They tried to put an oxygen mask on me, and I shoved them away. They got in my face and irritably explained her heartbeat and oxygen were dropping; it was for her. That shifted things for me and accepted the mask. She wasn’t even born yet and was already my number one priority.

Her birth wasn’t fancy as it was at a military hospital on a tropical island in the Pacific. Somehow, I had gained an audience in the delivery room. Various nurses, interns, and other medical staff. Some had just popped in to grab supplies and stayed for the show. Twenty people? I’ll never know for sure. Annoyed I was entertainment for them yet had no shame in my body being exposed as I was busy doing more important things like giving life.

February 19, 1993, was the evening my lovely creature would grace us with her presence. When she arrived, she came out in a swoosh and the doctor almost dropped her. She had been corked down there for a while with fluid built up behind her, making her super slick as she shot out. They immediately put her on my chest before even cutting the umbilical cord. I just looked into her blue eyes. She was quiet. And had dark, curly hair! I kept thinking, “Oh, no, she doesn’t like me. She is judging me and wondering if I will take care of her properly”. I just kept worrying about what she thought of me. It was the oddest thing but one of my constant thoughts the first 24 hours.

The moment she looked at me with those eyes, I fell madly and deeply in love with her. And have loved her ever since. Even now, when she has stopped talking to me, I still adore and love that child. A few days later we brought her home from the hospital and I laid her on the bed, putting my face into hers, just up-close looking into her eyes. Then kissed her all over her face, promising her I would always love her. Forever. I felt love in a way that is indescribable, and my heart was bursting at the seams. In that moment I became a protective mamma bear who would do anything she could to let no one hurt her.

Today, Alex is miserable but won’t let me near her. I feel helpless and heartbroken. And terrified for her. Which may be why I’m thinking about her birth. The joyful moment she came into my life. I hold on to that. And hope she steps back into my life again someday.

Photo by Zach Lucero on Unsplash