Alyssa

Alyssa
I'm a crazy 23-year-old, graduating with a major in Sociology and minor in Marriage and Family Studies from Brigham Young University--Idaho in April 2014. I was born and raised in the Bay Area, California and am the second to youngest of seven children. I am obsessed with Cheerios and bananas. An apple and Austin a day makes me a happier person.

Austin

Austin
He's a studly 24-year-old. He works full-time as Lead Tech at Service Master in San Jose, California. He loves sports, has played rugby, and some of his favorite teams are the Atlanta Braves and the Dallas Cowboys. He loves camping and hunting. He also knows how to make a mean bacon covered turkey. He is from St. George, Utah, and the oldest of five chidren. And look how cute he is!

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Dear Nora

Dear Nora,

A year ago I was anxiously waiting for you. I hadn't met you yet, but you were all I could think about. I had so many questions about you. Would you look like me, or your dad? What color eyes would you have? Would you have hair, what color would it be? Would you have blue eyes? Would you be tiny, or big? What would that little face look like? Would you sleep good? What about breastfeeding, would you be able to latch? Would you cry all the time, or would I be able to soothe you?Would you even like me?

Oh how I prayed you would like me. I was so scared of you, Nora. I was scared you'd notice all the things wrong about me. I was scared you'd love other's more than me. And in turn, I was so worried I would t know how to love you either. I was so scared of failing you, and not being a good mother. I was so scared of something happening to you. 

A year ago I was waiting to feel you move inside of me. You crazy girl, you'd make me wait all day! Not until midnight or later is when you'd start making your movements! I can't tell you how many times I went to labor and delivery to check on you- the staff knew who I was! And every time I went I'd stare at the machine watching your heart beat. And oh how that machine got you moving! You did not like being pushed on or bugged. You had sass even in the womb. 

A year ago me and your dad would walk around at night. He wanted so much to meet you. He thought the walks would get you here sooner! We'd talk about how in trouble we were- we knew you'd be stubborn just like us. You also would never have the chance to not be crazy, we are your parents after all. 
We made the decision for me to get induced. We couldn't wait any more, and I was ready to start worrying about you where I could see you! For some reason I thought that would be an easier worry to handle-- boy was I wrong!

I'll never forget getting to the hospital. I was so scared. I felt bad for getting induced because I worried maybe you weren't ready yet and I was being selfish. One of the nurses scared me that the induction wouldn't even work. Thanks lady, tell me something to only make it worse! But we went through with it anyway. I sat there staring at the machine through every contraction. I had to make sure you were handling it ok. You did. You did so well. We both did. I was amazed by how strong we were. Your dad kept telling me how good I was doing, and kept tugging at my IV. I also very much remember that. 
He was our biggest cheerleader. I didn't know if I could do it, giving birth isn't easy. It was tiring. But I knew it would be worth it, and I would do anything to finally meet you. A year ago I had never seen you daddy cry. But he cried when you were born. He felt your heart and mine beating together through the umbilical cord. He says that was the coolest thing for him to feel our hearts beating in his hand.

They placed you on me. And I cried. We cried together. I had never loved anything or anyone as much as I loved you. I couldn't even see your face. I could only see your curly, dark hair. But I knew you were beautiful. You were beautiful. You were loved. You were my reason for living. You were perfection. A year later, you still are all these things. 
A year ago I didn't know what it meant to be tired. Boy, I was tired. I didn't sleep for the first few days after you were born. All I could do was stare at you. All I could do was hold you. Weeks were like this. Those weeks turned into months. My prayers were answered, you undoubtedly loved me, even if just at the time it was for food. But it was more than that. You knew me. And you wanted only me. I spent countless nights holding you all night, and we'd sleep in the rocker. Your dad took it a little personal when you would cry over him just looking at you. Good sense in character is what I say;) But I was very grateful when you did start trusting him so I could get some rest too. As hrs as those sleepless nights were, they only made me love you more. 

A year ago I wouldn't have known that your smile and blue eyes would change my life. I never would've known that still a year later, your heartbeat would bring me so much peace. I still check it while you sleep, I love hearing it without the machine. Some people think I worry too much. That may be true. But they're not your mom. No one can love you or know you like I do. No one can know what's best for you like I do. I never want you to feel alone. I never want you to be sad or hurt. And while I can't realistically protect you from any pain, I can be there with you and be there for you as much as I humanly can. I protect you because I love you.

I never knew gratitude quite as much as I do now until I met you. Each and every day I am filled with gratitude because of you, and for you. Although a year ago I was scared I couldn't love you enough, I now don't know how I could love you more. You bring me so much joy, Nora. You are funny. You are smart. You are beautiful. You are my joy. Nora, if only you could comprehend the love me and your dad have for you. Someday you will, but until then all we can do is say it and show it as best we can.

Although I am not a perfect mom, I love you perfectly. Being a mother is not easy, but loving you comes so easily. I am a better person because you are my daughter. 

A year ago I never knew how fast 365 days could go by. The nine months it took for you to get here seemed much longer. But I remember this year with so much love. 

I remember the day we brought you home and how tiny you were in your seat, and how your dad accidentally ran a red light (I'll never let him live that down). I remember hearing you snort like a pug dog, it was the cutest sound we had ever heard. I remember your dad changing your diapers because I was scared of your umbilical cord. I remember your little cry, and all the hiccups you would get. I remember your tiny sneezes, they always came in twos. I remember the first time you rolled over, it surprised me because I rarely laid you down. I remember the nights where I wanted to give up breastfeeding because it was hard, but knew you needed it-- even if sometimes it was just for comfort. I remember being scared about the speed of the ceiling fan- ok, that was a little neurotic. Same with all the nights I'd check your temperature at least a dozen times at night. I remember your doctor visits and how you were always right on track. I remember your cries when getting your shots, and oh how I wish I could take away the hurt. I remember how you somehow knew and wanted only me to hold you, and really hated your daddy... He couldn't even touch your toes. And oh those toes were cute! I remember when you'd smile in your sleep. Or your first laugh, oh it was a cute laugh. I remember your smiles when you would see me. I remember the "oh" sounds you'd make all night long instead of sleeping. Those "oh" sounds were replaced by the fascinated "ooooo" sounds. I remember your first solid foods, you chosen it down. And the way your thighs would get stuck in the Bumbo. I remember when all you wanted to do was sit, and when you would secretly roll over when I wasn't looking. I remember reading you "Sweet Child of Mine" over and over. Or listening to "Let it Go" good change any meltdown to complete joy. I remember how you learned to crawl in what seemed like a matter of minutes. And not long after you started to walk. I remember when you started crying "mama," and your games of peek-a-boo. I remember how I'm constantly just looking at you and smiling, you're so smart and so funny. I remember your instant love for chicken nuggets, you are after all your mother's daughter. I remember you squeals while me or daddy would chase you, it's one of your favorites. I remember your open mouth kisses. I remember how determined you are. I remember how you won't let your dad put his hand on me, because if you do you'll come over and pull it off, replace his hand with yours, and stare him down to remind him I'm yours. I remember how I can take a shower and when I am finished, you get excited to see me as if it's the first time in months. I will always remember the love you make feel. 

Nora, a year ago I was waiting to meet you. I was waiting for you. I had been waiting for you all my life. A year ago I never knew how much I could love you. And I know in a year from now, I will only love you more. And I will forever be grateful to a kind and loving Heavenly Father who gave me you. Thank you for loving me, despite my shortcomings and faults.  You will forever be my baby girl. I love you always and forever, sweet child of mine. 

Love, Your Mama

I'll love you forever. I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.










1 comment:

  1. what a great idea to highlight mothers of different faiths. You have a wonderful blog and I keep coming back to get great tidbits of inspiration on being a mother. It warms my heart to know of so many other women who take their role of motherhood seriously and seek the guidance of the Lord daily in their lives. Your blog inspires me to find joy in everyday moments as a mother.

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