Skip to main content

21 Years Ago Today....

I gave birth to this child.

Granted, 21 years ago she didn't look like that. No, she looked even better if you can believe it. Small, softer than anything I'd ever touched in my life, squirmy, cuddly and she smelled so good. I think I spent most of my time that first year with my face buried in her sweet smelling neck and kissing her face.

The pain of a 21 hour labor was soon forgotten (sort of) as I brought this tiny squalling person home to our basement apartment. Sleep was no longer what it once was in my life---from that day forward it came in spurts and sometimes it didn't come at all.

I'd lay awake just to listen to the gentle sound of air entering and exiting her tiny lungs. That sound was music to my heart and better than any soundtrack I'd ever listened to up to that time. From moment to moment I'd lean up and place my hand on her--just to be sure she was still there and still breathing.

There was snow that year---and three days after her birth we had to get her admitted to Children's Hospital for a week or so until her bilirubin count came down from it's lofty frightening heights. We had a private room, she and I. I'd put my hands through the holes in the incubator and stroke her back or watch in amazement as her tiny fingers wrapped around one of my fingers.

Nights of sickness, days of laughter, pudding in her hair, pullups and tricycles. Her first snow when she learned to walk and her faceplant in the snow that frightened her half to death. There were pink dresses and bows in her long honey colored hair. Foot stompings and I-can-do-it-myself's. Girls camp and crushes on boys. Obsession with Titanic and piano lessons and learning to drive. Gifted programs and books by the bushel. Graduation and college and the wonder of watching her try to find her way in the world and discover just who she is.

The relationship between a mother and a daughter is tender and oft times tense.

I grew her in my belly and she in turn, grew me into a mom for the very first time.

I made mistakes....but I always did what I thought was right. I taught her to pray and to read the scriptures. I took her to church and spoke to her of her royal heritage as a daughter of God. She knows where she comes from.....and my heart, the heart of a mom, yearns for her to sit in my lap once more so I can whisper the gospel truths in her ear and feel her arms go around my shoulders and squeeze me tight.

I know there will be no more dressing up as princesses and putting on dancing shows for me. I know the time for jumping into my warm bed in the morning for a Sunday snuggle is long past so now I look forward to watching you graduate this Spring, to see you find your way in this confusing world and I hope for the occasional passing hug and 'I love you Mommy'.

I love you sweetheart.


  1. Wow, that was beautiful. Almost made me cry... The life of my little three year old just passed through my eyes to his adulthood. I don't want to miss a single thing about my kids!! Isn't it amazing how much love you can give to your children??!! Mother's love is literally never-ending.

  2. Very sweet Pam. Life just ran faster than we were able to keep up with and now all those sweet innocent times are past but, never ,ever to be forgotton. I know you're crying..stop it! Smile sis, life is good and mommy love lives on!!

  3. duckgirl3:05 PM

    Awww, that was very sweet, Pam! Happy Birthday to Steph!

  4. Beautiful, Pammy! And you said something so important: The part about how you carried her in your belly and she came from you, but you also came from her. I always feel that if I wouldn't have had my niece and my sons I would have never grown up. They made me who I am today.

    She's beautiful, by the way!

  5. Hi Pammy! Loved that post. Happy Birthday to your baby girl!

  6. Hey you!! Where have you been hiding? Thanks for the comments. Yes...she is beautiful and she most certainly contributed to who I am today.


Post a Comment

Go ahead....tell me the truth :)

Popular posts from this blog

A Poem to an Abusive Man

I've been doing a bit of research on abuse, domestic violence and how it usually ends. It's not pretty and it's painful and I hurt every time I read another woman's tale of horror.

Did you know that emotional abuse is as detrimental as physical abuse? And that most emotional abusers continue on to become physical abusers? I didn't. I do now. I found a site where formerly abused women, on the path to recovery from their abusers, have written poems. This one below is one that haunted me.

Thank You

You wooed me with poetry
I bit on the hook
Had I only first read
The name of the book

I would have avoided
The very first page
For pages kept turning
Revealing the rage

The ups were a great high
The ride was a bash
But I rode with my eyes closed
To avoid seeing the crash
I knew it would come soon
But I never knew when
The rage and the leaving
And the path to the end

You had to control things
Determined you would
Emotionally destroying me
Every way that you could

Elderly Abuse

I heard a loud thud the other morning around 3:30 a.m. I checked my monitor but he'd once again turned it to the wall so I was unable to see if he was still in bed. I went downstairs right behind my sweet husband and dad was on the living room floor moaning and holding his head. He'd fallen. Hard.

The first picture is the day of the fall. The second is the day after. The black eye keeps blossoming. He has a gash on his head, hidden by his silver hair and he skinned his shoulder/arm. He's a mess.

Was he using his walker? Nope. 85 year old toddlers cannot be told what to do. Or rather, they can be told what to do, they simply won't comply. Ever. In fact they get down right angry and throw fits. It's not pretty.

His physical therapist came to the house the next day and strongly told him to use his walker EACH TIME HE STOOD UP. Has he? Nope. Nyet. He was very angry with me yesterday because I kept asking him to use his walker. Also, I asked him i…



Back on the horse
Monkey on his back
I see no light
Not even a crack
Back to delusions
Back to the lies
I see through his words
He can't hear my cries

Back into his soul
Back into his veins
The poison he pours
Dark liquid his chains

Backed into a corner
Heartbroken and torn
Back into the needle
The eye of the storm

Back to the wall
Soul bruised torn and broken
Back to my pain
His eyes half open

Back into the horror
Will he ever come back
Back into the nightmare
A needle in a sack

Back into his childhood
I loved him with fury
Looking back on his life
His choices my jury

How did this happen
Back to evil and sin
How can he do this
Lines on his skin

Back to my weeping
Back to my sorrow
My son, my love,
Has no more tomorrows
(all rights reserved)