My dearest daughter

It’s been a year already, little girl.  I was not ready for it to pass as quickly as it did.  I will be honest with you, even if it is blunt and perhaps hurtful, I promise to always be honest – and truthfully, I was not ready to have a girl.  I was not ready to have a third baby, let alone a girl.  I was flat out scared.
How can I have a baby girl? I know nothing about girls! I know football and basketball, not tutu’s and tea parties. I wear black and grey and white and stripes. And pants. I am going to mess up a girl. I don’t know how to braid hair or clean ear piercings. I will let my girl down and she will wish for a “cool Mom” instead of me.

 And then it happened.  And you were born.  You came three days early and 18 hours faster than your brothers.  And from then on, I knew you were your own person complete with character and personality – a person to be reckoned with.  Someone the world had never seen.
And you are.  You are a bowl full of laughter and smiles – the ray of sunshine that brightens any cold day.  When your hand rests on my cheek, I know that life is precious and fleeting and moments like these are to be treasured.
You have changed me, Cal.  You have filled parts of me that I never knew where empty, but would always feel like I was missing something.  Your body is too small for the size of your heart and the strength and determination and guts and love you have for everything you do astonishes me.  I strive to be a better mother for you, a better female role model for you and I pray for the ability to demonstrate how much joy you bring to my life.
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