As I have confessed before, I am an avid reader of blogs. If you take a look on my sidebar over there, those are the blogs I keep up with on a daily basis. Well, I found a new blog. A while ago, but then I took a Twitter strike and forgot about it. See, there’s this woman. Named Anissa she’s hilariously funny and down to earth, but also one hell of a fighter. Her daughter Peyton had ALL Leukemia. Not only did she hold her shit together (and her family’s) she came out swinging. Not only did her family have to deal with childhood cancer, but Anissa has suffered not 1, not 2 but 3 strokes. The last 2? Yeah, they said she probably wouldn’t make it, but she’s here. And it’s amazing. When I fall in love with a blog, I read it from start to finish. These people probably think I’m some crazy stalker chick. So, as I was reading today, I came across a letter to her kids from June 30, 2008. It hit me. I should write something to Lauren. So. Here’s what I say now. And hopefully? She understands how much it means to me when she’s older.
Dear Lauren,
You’re almost 3.5. I can’t believe it. You went from this 7 lb, 15 oz baby who was SO dependent on me. And now? You’re growing up too fast and you want independence. It’s crazy to think about it.
I’m sorry that I had such a complicated pregnancy with Jillian. I was short tempered, you deserved better. You deserved more. Heck, you still deserve more. I’m sorry that Jillian was born 10 weeks early, requiring me to travel back and forth to the NICU. ESPECIALLY when Daddy went back to work. My day was to get up with you, be with you all day (but mentally, I was with your sister too) and when Daddy got home, I went to visit your sister. Until midnight most nights. And then lather, rinse, repeat.
I’m sorry that Jillian has spent so much time in hospital. Being premature comes with SO many other issues. I’m sorry that you had to choose between Daddy and I whenever Jillian is in the hospital. I’m sorry that whenever Jillian is hospitalized, I buy you new toys, to buy your love and perhaps lesson my guilt.
I’m sorry that we have to shuttle Jillian to so many appointments. I’m sorry that you feel the need to tell me you’re sick, and you have to go to the doctor because your sister gets to do it all the time.
I’m sorry that your sister has Cerebral Palsy and she still gets to sit in a wheelchair while you have to use your 2 legs. I’m sorry if you think that Jillian gets treated differently because she has CP (I’m pretty sure she doesn’t, but, who knows what you think)
I’m sorry that your life is always changing and it doesn’t seem to have any stability in it. We never know what’s around the next corner.
Most of all, I joke that you’re my “test child” since you’re my first born. And I’m sorry to include you on my learning curve.
Much Love forever,
Mommy
I think this is a beautiful letter <3