Scars

My Precious Child, 

I was born with pyloric stenosis. That sounds like gibberish, right? It basically just means that the opening from my stomach to my small intestine was narrower than it should have been. I was unable to digest food. Though I was born a strong 10 lb. baby, a lack of nutrients caused me to lose weight rapidly in my first month and a half of life. 

Thankfully, a combination of parental intuition, your great-grandma Vera's experience working in a hospital, and a knowledgable doctor saved my life. All that remains of that experience 24 years ago is a two inch scar across my stomach, a scar that is stretching more and more as my belly makes room for a quickly growing you. 

We all have scars - some literal, some metaphorical. They prove that we lived through something painful. They remind us of our complicated histories, filled with imperfection and struggle. They prove that we survived. You'll get them too over your lifetime. You'll cut your chin open or break your arm or, Lord help me, get your heart broken as badly as I did when I was too young and too naive to learn from my mistakes. 

And that's my deepest scar, the one left on my heart when I was 18 years old. I fell in love when I was very young, arguably too young, only 15 years old. I lost myself in a relationship that started off so innocently and ended up being incredibly chaotic, confusing, and painful. It broke my heart as the smell of his cologne was replaced by cigarette smoke and shaggy blonde hair started to cover the blue eyes I fell in love with. This stranger in familiar clothes kept pushing me away as I was trying to pull him back for reasons I didn't even understand anymore. I became exhausted and lonely, with a heart full of scars. 

A part of me wishes that I could say your daddy was my very first and only love. That sounds so romantic. But that's not my truth, not my story. My truth is that I didn't get my happily ever after the first time around. 

I got even better. 

I got years of experience with heartbreak, learning to pick myself up after crying so hard I couldn't breath. I got to embrace love as it came and accept it for what it was and what it wasn't as I saw it slip through my hands. I got to learn what I didn't want in a man - selfishness, indecisiveness, manipulation. I got to see how wrong he was when he told me that nobody could ever love me. I got to kiss some major toads and watch as they didn't turn into princes. I got the truest love of all when I needed it most, which happened to be at the most unlikely of times in the most unlikely of situations. I got flowers in my dorm room with a note asking to be his girlfriend. I got a chance to experience the kind of passion, forgiveness, and unconditional love that I used to dream of. I got to learn that commitment is a decision, a choice I make each and every day when I look over and see my adorable husband (your daddy) drooling on the pillow next to me. 

He's pretty great, your dad. He already bought you flowers. As an early Valentine's Day present, he brought home roses for me and tulips for you - "his girls." He is so in love with you, baby girl. He has been so helpful decorating your nursery and preparing for your entrance into the world. He may not have been my first love but he is my great love. My true love. My feels like home love. He is the love that I never saw coming and the love that I couldn't be the same without. He is the reason my future is never scary. He has seen every single one of my scars and loves me anyway. 

We will both love you forever, our sweet girl. Scars and all. Please don't ever forget that. 

Love Always and Forever, 

Mom