It’s hard sometimes. Life.
For you, my little one, life is just beginning. Your eyes are constantly big with wonder and I find myself loving the excitement with which you approach even the simple things.
I even love when I’m not the center of your world. I love watching you bring joy, wonder, love, and excitement into someone else’s world, like when you had Papa give chase (as best he could, anyway) after you to try to tag you back on the rear earlier this afternoon.
I love how you’re so unburdened, but you can feel when something isn’t right with the people you love.
Today in the shower you asked what was wrong and I just said that I was thinking about some things but you didn’t need to worry. You just pressed your water-drenched body against mine and gave me a hug. Your hugs are wonderful, by the way.
I’ve been quiet here because I’ve been wondering how to write about this. Wondering how I should feel. I really don’t think there’s a “right” way to feel; perhaps it’s just better to go through the motions.
We wanted to give you siblings; two of them actually. After 2+ years of trying and a visit to the doctor, we finally realized that without a LOT of money and/or God’s intervention, it simply isn’t going to happen. It’s disheartening in a way, because I grew up as an only child, and while lots of people who have siblings always wish that they didn’t, I spent all day every day alone.
Well, without that special someone beside me who got on my nerves but was wholly and unequivocally mine.
There wasn’t anyone to tell my secrets to, no one to run to when my mother died, and no one who had my back and only my back. Sure, I have people who are down for me, but when I’m not stupid: their family will always come first. That was proved back in high school; and that’s okay, I’m not judging. That’s how it should be.
I just didn’t have that.
I say all that to say that I had no intention of purposely making you be an only child. So I’m here tonight, extremely thankful for you and for your cousins, but knowing that if we move like we want to, you won’t have them. And I just pray that God will fill any voids you may feel and that your father and I will be enough.
It’s hard to write about because a lot of people say, “Well at least you have ONE, there are some who can’t have any” or “In God’s time,” or, “Maybe you can adopt,” or all the other things that people say that are meant to be helpful but just…aren’t.
So my darling Caydence, I write this today so that you know I’m completely over the hills mad about you and if you find yourself with a sibling at some point in the future, know that when he/she is irritating the mess out of you, that it’s exactly how I wanted your life to go, haha.