Tuesday, February 15, 2011


On this very day 18 years ago....I became a Mom.

I was just 20 years old.  

I was full of hopes and dreams and all the possibilites.  My husband would tell you that he was scared to death!

It's weird, going from being responsible for only yourself to having them place this helpless little creature in your arms. 

When I was pregnant, I refused to be "one of those" women that went to the hospital in false labor.  So, when I started timing my contractions regularly at seven minutes apart, I called my mom.  Don't all new moms or soon to be moms call their moms? As I was talking to her and my contractions got closer together, my mom said "Charlene, how far apart are your contractions?"  I said Oh, about every five mintues now.  My mom said "Where's Rich?"  I answered he's still sleeping.  She said "Charlene you need to wake him up, you're supposed to be at the hospital when your contractions are five minutes apart....Go - Now!"

LOL! I sure wasn't one of "those women" that day.

By the time we got to the hospital the contractions were about 3 minutes apart - we got there at 6:30 in the morning.  My doctor, we found out was on vacation.  So another doctor covering for him was called.  Three hours later, with NO epidural (because ALL new mothers think they can do it all, even if they are dying in pain haha), at 9:36 a.m. a beautiful red headed little girl with a strawberry birthmark on her shoulder was placed in my waiting arms.  She weighed 6 pounds and 14 ounces and she was breathtaking. 

Rich and I agreed not to find out what we were having, but we were convinced we were having a boy, so we had no girl names picked out.  We bounced a few around (just in case), but never decided on an actual name.  For three days, our precious little one was called "Baby Girl J".  On the day we were to go home a nurse told us that we had to have a name for the birth certificate and other documents.  I had previously told Rich that I like "names that grew",  not some cutesy name, but one that would grow with her and sound nice when she was 80 something.

We chose Amanda Jordan

Amanda means "worthy of love" and we had no greater gift from each other or from God that we felt was so worthy of love as our new baby girl.

Jordan means "descended".  We like to think that this little gift descended from Heaven into our life.

Now this precious gift that was given to us is 18.


No one tells you when you become a parent that that baby will grow up and one day leave you.  No one tells you how hard it will be the first time they get their heart broken.  The first time they skin their knee.  The first time they color on the wall.  The first time they walk across the room to your waiting arms.  How hard it will be.  How much love you will feel.  How much that love will grow with time and with them. 

No one tells you how much your heart will break when their heart is broken.  Or how you will feel their pain and joy and sorrows.  How much it will hurt when they first tell you that they hate you.  How proud you will be when they write their name and color in the lines for the first time.  How scared you will feel, when you watch them drive away with that shiny new license.  How accomplished you will feel when they earn their first paycheck.

No one tells you that your heart will literally walk off one day, right out of your chest, while you stand there watching...hoping they will turn around and smile.  No one tells you how big of a lump you will swallow when that kindergarten door closes behind you.  Or how worried or mad or relieved or scared you will be the first time they stay out all night.  How awful you will feel when you hold them down for their first stitches or shots.  How much love radiates through those bear hugs and slobbery kisses. 

You know, they say a mommy's kiss can heal the simplest and most awful of wounds.....except that of the hole your child leaves when they steal your heart.

happy birthday my sweet girl.  I love you

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