My own mothers fingers were intertwined within the strands of my grown up 'lady' locks.
The hair her hands had braided a hundred times over the years.
Safety in her hands, love in her words, warmth in the visit. I confessed not feeling well.
My sister snapped a photo at that very moment. It is framed on my walls forever more.
My head bowed, being plaited for the day, my mothers smile as she considered my confession. "snap" and everything changed.
Greg and I rushed to the drug store.
And then there was Naomi.
Lovely Naomi, the baby even the Doctor gasped at.
It was a struggle to bring her in, everything said no in my body. no no no.
But my mind, my heart, my love said yes. and never looked back.
Greg held my hair back when I was forever leaning over white porcelain.
reading doctor Seuss books to distract her from my moaning.
We sang to her, and when they said she was breach ~
we played Neil Young way down low and she turned just like the good baby she was.
When the water rushed, she woke me and told me first...
It's just the kinda girl she is.
The day we drove home with her, I felt like we had something breakable in back.
The first night home....... she slept.
Late in the night I came down stairs, crawled up next to my own mother and I cried.
I cried for all that could be, could happen, will happen.
I cried for the hurt. The pain, the boys, the friends... all of it.
The uncertainty in life, the questions, the searching she would do.
And then I prayed. And I Knew.
Knew she would face this life, head on.
She would hurt, feel, love, win, lose.... all of it.
And I knew that Greg and I would give her our all.
The good the bad and the ugly... all of it.
And she would come out knowing her God.
All of Him.
Today she is 12... and so far...
Well, what can I say? Its just the kind of young lady she is.