For All My Children

Oh Athena. I’m sorry I haven’t written to you sooner. It’s not for lack of wanting to, it’s that I’ve struggled to find the right words.

I am filled with so much guilt when it comes to you. I feel like I failed to protect you during my pregnancy. I feel like I failed to step up for you after you were born. Right now I still feel like I’m failing you, and you deserve so much more than what I’ve been able to give.

But none of these are your problems at all–this is just mommy focusing on her feelings and trying to get them out so that way she can get to the important part: you.

Athena, you are nothing short of a miracle. I thought I lost you at one point during the pregnancy, but when they told me that you were still there, heart still beating strong, I wept. My baby girl, determined to enter the world.

I still remember holding you right after you were born. Your tiny body, your rooting, your soft skin. You were perfect. You are perfect.

Which is why it hurts so much to find out that you will likely need surgical procedures. Your brother Owen had to have surgery too when he was even younger than you are now. Please trust that no parent ever wants to have to make that decision.

I hate thinking about you being in the hospital, being put under anesthesia, needing to recover, hooked up to machines, and being in pain. The thought of you being in pain wants me to rip the world in two. I’d do anything to prevent it but there’s nothing that I can do.

Yesterday we had a physical therapy appointment for you. I could see how far you’ve come in the last few months and how hard you’re working. I couldn’t be more proud of you. Seeing your smile is the purest joy my heart has ever felt, and when you rest your head against my shoulder, all I want to do is squeeze you forever and never let you go.

I adore you, Athena. I’m so glad you’re here. Our family wouldn’t be complete without you.