Hold her

Hold her.

For as long as you can.

While you can.

Because in the beginning, the only thing she’s going to know how to do is cry. To breathe. To sleep. To wake. And to cry some more.

And at first you’re not going to think she’s yours.

You’re going to think some stork just dropped her off at your door.

And you’re going to be irritated.

And frustrated.

At this miraculous burden.

You’re going to furiously implore.

And you’re going to shut the door.

But it’s too late. Because your already heard her.

And you recognized the sound.

And in the distance - you hear the memory.

And you see the symphony.

Of what could be.

And what was.

And in the moment your soul will kneel.

And in that moment,

The first peace will heal.

You didn’t plan for her.

You didn’t want kids.

But here you are,

Raising an abandoned child as your own.

Alone.

In the beginning you’ll be met with two things -

Some will meet you with grace and compassion.

Knowing before you do that meeting her was the beginning of your ascension.

And they’ll celebrate new life as it should always be celebrated.

Others aren’t as calibrated.

And their dissonance will affect you.

They’ll make you ask yourself-

What did I just do?

But that beginners luck is just hanging out all around you.

You have this impenetrable glow. And warmth.

You work a little harder, and you start to pray a little smarter.

You can’t quite put a finger on it, but something about her just feels right.

It’s just something about her light.

And the way she makes your future feel bright.

And she starts to intertwine herself into your life.

You don’t realize how dark your life is until it’s too late.

And she starts making you see things you didn’t want to see.

And just how incapable you are of supporting her.

You start to feel inferior.

And in your insecurities,

You start searching for more.

Because you’re not enough.

And you believe that deep in your soul.

You just didn’t understand the universal truth.

Of children.

She wants to be just like you.

So you spend years searching outside of yourself for the answer.

Higher powers, if you’re feeling low.

Laws, if you’re feeling lawless.

Solutions,

To the one solid you’ll never be able to swallow.

She’s too good to be true.

And yet there she is. Standing right in front of you.

Juggling infinities like it was her birth write.

Giggling and laughing and twirling like she just discovered fire. For the first time.

Flipping like gravity doesn’t affect her.

Spinning and grinning.

Just looking at you -

Asking momma, am I winning yet?

So you buckle in.

Realizing just how special she is.

And just how much trouble you signed on for.

The moment you walked her in the door.

That’s when

The Masc u line.

Becomes undefined.

And you become that brick wall.

So that she can always approach eternity.

Exponentially.

That’s the moment you realize you will support her forever.

And you create the grid.

Because you want other people to see how far she’s grown.

And plot just how you’ve supported her.

Look at her?!?

Can’t you see?

She’s approaching infinity.

But because of me.

And the XY axis I built to support her.

She will never be enough.

She’s exhausted and leans into you. I think I’m almost there. Just hold me a little longer. I’ve got this.

And in your desperation.

You realize she doesn’t.

And you created an impossible finish line for the one baby girl that gave you your start.

Hold her while you can,

Because one day she’s going to realize.

That you held her as long as you could.

And it’s not enough anymore.

But she is.

And she.

Is you.