The most helpless I ever felt was right after my daughter was born eight years ago.
Although she was considered full-term at 38 weeks, she was only 4 pounds and 2 ounces at birth and was born with a congenital heart defect. She experienced respiratory distress upon entering the world, and was immediately intubated and taken to the NICU. Just a few hours later she was transferred to the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit at a children’s hospital in another state, while I stayed put.
This right here is everything.
When my children think of me, I hope that they recall the places we go, the songs we sing, the books that we read.
I hope that they think of me as their homework helper, dinner cooker, and bath giver.
I hope that they know me as their safe space, their home base, their soft place to fall.
You are the one who cares for my child when I am not there.
You teach them how to read and how to be a good friend.
You help them with art projects and tying shoes.
You comfort worries and celebrate successes.
The words escape me each time I sit down to write.
There is so much I want to say – so much I need to say – about the Mom 2.0 Summit. And don’t even get me started on the Iris Awards! That post will come later. One step at a time.