elizabeth cecilia

She was born in the wee hours of the morning. 1:35am to be exact. On December 20th. In the year 1987.

My 24 year old daughter. Elizabeth Cecilia.

"Where is my bag? The bag? With all the essentials for having a baby?" I whispered painfully to Rudy.
"In the car. Ready, and waiting. Let's go. It's time," he responded, both excited and nervous.

Laboring. Sometimes. Sometimes not. "Whatever you do, don't push. Even if the urge strikes you," a nurse firmly stated. I shook my head. Up. Then down. She walked away. I pushed.

Rudy stood by my side. Watched me. Worried. Excited.

Unknowingly, I grabbed his finger. The finger with the fresh cut on it. The finger that was feeling raw. Pained. As the contractions escalated, I rubbed that sore finger of his. Hard. Aggressively. He said not a word. He bit his lip. Endured his own pain while I worked through mine.

"Oh, my," the nurse said when she returned. Checked my progress. "Let's get you into the adjoining room. It's time."
"Oh, shit!" I stated. Then tried to cover my blurt. "Sorry. Didn't mean to say that." She laughed. The nurse did. "No problem," is all she said.

My newborn daughter was placed on my chest. To feel my warmth. To bond. With me. For a moment.

Then she was taken away.

To make sure she was a healthy baby girl.

She was.

My Elizabeth was born in the wee hours of December 20th. With a head full of dark hair. Just like me. When I was born.

As Elizabeth grew, and became aware of smooth garments on her olive brown skin, she discovered a particular material she couldn't get enough of.

Spandex. Specifically as a bathing suit.

Elizabeth is the kind of daughter every mother dreams of. She is beautiful. Kind. Honest. Loyal. Peaceful. Compassionate. Empathetic. Friendly. Funny. Intelligent. And simply a wonderful person to share meaningful moments with.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to a lovely young woman.