To my Baby,
My last born. My sweet, Camille.
To the one who will make people think twice, check themselves and second guess their convictions. To the one who is always the biggest supporter, strongest advocate, and most fearsome defender. To the one who spreads her wings to fly and tucks them in to snuggle. To my Moose.
Eight years ago we were settling into the bed in Women & Infants’ Hospital. Just you and me, Mima in the corner, tucked into bed… the nurses never even tried to move you to a bassinet- it’s like they knew I’d fight. I never let my girls away from me- and this night was ours. We held onto each other- for you, it was for nourishment and warmth and safety. I was your first home… I will always be home.
For me- I held onto the last part of my heart I’d let go. My soul disconnected from my body… now there were two of you that I could no longer protect like I once could. There was no way I’d ever be able to keep you from harm- and I held on to you all night, waking in the dark to check your sweet breath and kiss your thick hair.
Eight years ago we were one that became two- and yet, we’re still one. You are my shadow, or maybe I am yours. I am next to you as you read books at night and I watch you carefully change your earrings and brush your hair. And you are by my side at the makeup table and when we get the opportunity to run a road race. You are down for a game of catch and racing the bases, or snuggling and watching a Disney movie on the weekends.
I love us… I love my girls and how we all fall into the fold. Thank you for you.