06 Mar Hello, 9!

My baby is 9 years old today. 9! As an adult, that’s how long I’ve been alive. That’s how long my life has had color in it. That’s how long I have had a purpose…a meaning to it all. That’s how long I have not tried to actively take my life. I found a reason to live. Only a handful of people know this, I had my first child to save me from me. She was never an accident, she was planned and needed. She has experienced rejection from her bio dad and his family, my ex-husband and his people, and even from some of my family members. Is there an instance where I rejected her? Never. Not a single day have I had any form of regret for her being in my life. I am enough, I have been enough but every time I pray for her, I always include a prayer that my next husband has a large family who will shower her with love and acceptance to offset all the hurt her tender soul has (un)knowingly experienced.

I am extremely protective of her, in words and deeds. I do not let anyone speak negatively about her in my presence, physically harming her is out of the question. Not on my watch. School is the only place she is not around me and even there, I am her mouthpiece, I advocate for her well-being, and never do I tire or let up. As long as I have life in me, I will be her protector. Any individual who has crossed her in any shape or form has been cut off from my life. I may still be in communication with some but they are still cut off, they probably don’t even know it. No one messes with my baby and gets off lightly in my book.

Thursday, 6^th March 2014 was a surreal day. I did not experience an instant connection with my infant, mainly because we met about 17 hours after her birth. I was completely out of it. Post-theatre, I fell into a deep sleep from all the trauma a prolonged induced labor and emergency surgery had wrought on me. I had been in the hospital for 4 days with only a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. I was exhausted. Much to the astonishment of my doctor, barely 16 hours post major surgery, I walked to the bathroom to freshen up because I had to see my baby and I had to see her when I was cleaned up. First impressions, hehe. From the moment I met her, we’ve been inseparable. The only time we have been apart was the one week I was in hospital birthing her little sister. I never take it for granted that I get to be with my children.

Autism crashed into us and after a few months of denial, I embraced being a special needs Mom. It has been 7 years of acceptance and working with different professionals to enhance my baby’s quality of life. I am an Autie Mom. I made peace with it. I went through all five stages of grief. Grief in the sense that my child will be met with ‘the world’…an unprepared world. A world that largely does not understand Autism. A world that can be cruel. A world that is permeated by negativity. A world that houses predators. A cold world. When I resurfaced from my grief, I decided to focus on all that is positive…because I have seen heaven on earth through people. People who have been there for my baby. People and children who overlook her diagnosis. I have met people who have made me cry from their thoughtfulness and generosity toward my child. I have met angels through my child. This is what I focus on daily. It has not been smooth sailing but it has been worthwhile.

Everyday, I thank God I get to be your Mom. In this life and the next…in all of them, I will still choose you, Kemmy. Happy 9^th birthday, I love you with all that I am.