Ten

Ten years ago, my first child was born - a little girl with a big name, a bad case of colic and the ability to melt anyone's heart. This is a really hard age for me and for her. The whole double digits thing isn't sitting too well but we are still celebrating like mad. I've done everything I can to make her feel super-special, even to the point of embarassing her as much as I can because, let's face it, that is my job as a parent and I probably only have a few good years of that left. I wonder if she'll ever read this. As a writer, I feel like I am better on paper than I am in person so I choose to write her letters and cards and notes and keep a journal. Sometimes, my words don't flow like I wish they would - especially when you're looking in the eye of the girl who was just born yesterday but is somehow now a "tween". Only a parent can get how difficult it is to watch time fly so quickly. Only a parent can get how much your life completely changes when you give birth to a new life. I know that someday she may have that emotional upheaval in her life - waiting for months and then finally meeting the person who will forever change your world, the person who teaches you to have unconditional love. Really, when you think about it, you are in pain, you're scared, you panic, you can't breathe and then all of a sudden there's this baby covered in "stuff" and you're exhausted and the nurse is pulling off your gown so you can breastfeed and there are more people in the room and you're half naked and you're overwhelmed with more emotions than you've ever before had. And then you touch her and look at her - I mean, really look at her - and wonder what you ever did to deserve God's grace and this wonderful blessing. In one moment, you're picturing pigtails and ballet class and prom dates and wedding gowns. So, here's this little girl (well, not so little - 8 pounds, 8 ounces) with a big hold on everyone's heart. She got her first name, Catalina, after both her great-grandmothers, who came here from Cuba to make better lives for their children. Her middle name, Therese, is for my mother, whose family escaped the Nazi labor camp where she was born. They were all strong women and I know my daughter will be the same. As the firstborn grandchild on either side, she has an awesome responsibility. God chose her to be first for a reason. He wants her to lead the way, to set the example and be the role model. And she is doing it. These first 10 years have been the fullest I could ever know and I look forward to the next 10 and the 10 after that and the 10 after that and....