It was 10:21 a.m. when they first laid her on my chest.
I'll never forget that moment.
The smell of her head, the sound of her breathing, the softness of her skin, all of it.
"Nice to meet you," I whispered through the tears.
The nurse slowly turned the blinds in an upward angle and the brightness of the outside light hurt my eyes.
"Is that snow?" I wondered out loud.
"Yes!" she cheered.
"In a city that rarely sees the white stuff, this is a rare gift," she explained, knowing we were new to the area.
A rare gift.
I nodded, like I was agreeing with her, but my mind was wandering in a million other directions.
Thoughts were spinning about this baby on my chest, I wondered what she would be like, look like and would she really resemble me or parallel her dad, and what would she care about, fancy or hold dear?
I remember that.
The absolute wonderment and intense intimidation of this,
my "rare gift",
laid peacefully on my chest at 10:21 a.m.
Payton celebrated her 11th birthday last month. I looked through my picture files and although there's an abundance of great snapshots of the kid, I really liked this one.
I thought it proclaimed, "PAYTON" so very well.
Just 11, but still it seems,
a lot of those questions I craved,
the ones floating aimlessly, with such uncertainty, the morning of her birth...
reveal themselves and become more apparent.
A vision of my frightened, exhausted self emerges.
What I would give to tell her now,
Don't be afraid.
She's going to be pretty and kind and good.
She will be smart, hard working, responsible and a tremendous help to you.
She's going to be passionate about soccer and running, competitive and determined with an inner drive that will have you wondering where it came from and wishing you had it!
She'll keep you on your toes spiritually and push you to be better.
She'll be goofy and fun and you'll enjoy spending time with her. You'll be close and get along. She'll be your fashion consultant and youngest confidant.
Then one day you'll realize,
more than any other thing, she will fill a hole in your heart.
An empty, barren space,
an absence of a sister,
filled with the presence of a daughter.
A rare gift.
One you will treasure and thank Heavenly Father for,
every, single day.
