Birth-Day

Fourteen years ago, I gave birth to my last child.

She was my last hurrah. The last time my body would do what it had been designed to do- gestate and nurse a child. She was my body's last and best creative effort.

She was my anchor while the world was tilting off balance around me. She was my effort to stay grounded during a tumultuous time in my life. She was my saving grace.

I did not know for certain that she was a girl. I liked finding out at the moment of birth, but deep in my heart I knew.  I whispered the secrets of womanhood to her during the long winter nights.

When I held her in my arms the first time, she looked at me with all of the knowledge of world in those dark brown eyes.

She spent the night tucked in next to me in the narrow hospital bed. She slept when I slept and woke when I woke to feed her. She took her place in the world with ease.

I had a name reserved for my daughter. It had been chosen carefully to reflect a strong feminine self. Her middle name was the gift of my own name, Alaine.
It means "dear child."

Happy Birthday to my strong, and very beautiful daughter, Julia Alaine. My dear, strong, youngest child.