"Just Like Your Mother..."

Somewhere, deep in my heart, where the doubt and fear couldn't touch it, I always knew I would one day have a daughter. Yes, I went through mild panic and anxiety around age 30 that I would not be able to have kids, that my body would deny me and betray me, that I would run out of time. But deep, deep down, when I pictured my future, and didn't let those fears intrude, there was always a child, a girl, in my life.

I would picture myself combing long hair into pigtails.

I could see myself getting the bride ready for her wedding.

I envisioned myself elderly, talking about important lessons I wanted to pass on to my adult daughter.

The moment I found out I was pregnant I knew in my heart I had my daughter, at last. I never once thought I was carrying a boy. I just knew I was meant to have this girl.

I don't know if I will have any other children. I think there may be one more meant for our family. I still have those fears that my body will not cooperate again, that it will yet deny me. And if it is not meant to be, if it doesn't work out, it's ok. Because I have been blessed beyond words with this beautiful girl. The girl of my heart's dreams. She is forever mine.


And, boy oh boy, is she mine. Her personality takes shape and becomes a little stronger every day. And, uh...it's becoming evident that, in a lot of ways, she is just like me. In fact, John finds himself telling Giuliana, somewhat chagrined, that she is acting "just like your mother" several times a day.

To John's dismay she is not easily distracted. Just like me. He tries to tickle her while she is coloring and she squirms and giggles, but keeps right on coloring. Hmmmm.

She is becoming very particular about where things are "supposed to go." I have noticed that she and I are at odds about where a particular candle is "supposed to go" on the front porch. I move it to the window ledge. She runs right out and moves it back to the little table. I wait till she's not looking and put it back on the window ledge. She seems to have radar and runs out to put it back on the table again. Uh oh.

My mother has remarked how she seems to be a fearless adventurer, as I was. She will tromp bravely through weeds taller than her head, dash through mud puddles without hesitation, and climb whatever she deems climbable.

Giuliana had her 18 month check-up today and came to work with John and I this morning. I brought her crayons and a coloring book to keep her occupied, her new favorite thing. When I returned to my office later in the day, after the doctor visit and dropping G off at my mom's, I noticed a stray crayon on the floor. I picked it up and put it with my purse so I would remember to take it home with her other crayons. John walked in a little later, noticed it, and asked why I had a crayon. "Giuliana left it," I said, "I have to take it home. Blizzard Blue, it's an important one." John replied, half jokingly, "well, she'd notice if it were gone. If she's like her mother, she'd notice." Exactly.


These similarities make me laugh, and they make my heart smile. There's no denying her, she's mine. I know that someday, because we are so much a like, we will probably butt heads and drive each other crazy. I know there will be a (long) time when I will NOT be her favorite person. So I cherish each silly mommy-like trait that I see today. And I love that I am one of her two favorite people right now. I will always be so thankful that I have been blessed with this child, my daughter. It was meant to be.