What I Pray My Daughter Always Remembers

Most of us don’t have memories from when we were little. I think most of my memories from the time before I was 10 years old are only because of pictures and home videos. There have been times since having my daughter that I’m thankful she won’t remember these first couples weeks, months, years, etc.  Like the time when I spilled one of her bags of breast milk all over the kitchen and cried for a half hour while I cleaned it up (okay, let’s be honest, the dog licked it all up.  Then I wiped down the sticky, dog slobbery floor). Or the time when my pump stopped working half way through a pump session and my milk continued to flow all over me and the floor. And I yelled for my mom. And cried again.

I’m thankful my daughter won’t remember how nervous she made me, how insecure I felt her first couple of weeks of life. I’m glad she won’t recall the nights she would cry and cry as my husband and I tried to figure out what she needed.  But there have also been many moments in these first months together that I desperately wish my sweet baby could hold on to in the years to come.

You see, as a brand new mom, and only having one, my idea of motherhood is so very small. Motherhood is feedings and diaper changes and tummy time and introducing solids. But the day will come, so very soon, when motherhood will include discipline, effective communicating, consistency, and tough choices.  I pray every day that my daughter and I will grow closer and closer as the years go on, but I remember being 13, 16, 20. And there were times when I lost sight of my mother’s love for me. I felt like her decisions about my behavior, my clothing, and my relationships were irrational and ridiculous.

And it’s in these coming moments that I pray my sweet one will remember all the rocking we did together in that gray chair. I pray she will remember the way we sat and smiled at each other until she drifted off to sleep. I pray she remembers the way her daddy and I ran to her crib, now that she sleeps through the night, and grabbed her as quickly as we could when she fussed so we could have a few more minutes of snuggling. I pray she remembers how many songs I made up just to tell her how much I love her. I pray she remembers the way I cried in miraculous wonder the first time I held her in my arms. I pray she remembers the way we would heat her bottles to just the right temperature to make sure it was just the way she liked it. I pray she remembers the way we cheered and awed at her when she played on her tummy, or the first time she rolled over.

But most of all, I pray I remember to continue to do these things. I pray I never forget that Charlotte is my baby, my little miracle. And as life moves on, and parenting gets more difficult, and she forms her own ideas and opinions, I pray I continue to embrace every piece of who she is. I pray I continue to look at her with amazement and complete adoration, as my beautifully and wonderfully made individual.  I pray I never forget to tell her I love her every day, and to show her that love in a very real, unconditional way.  I pray I continue to get excited with her over the small things. I pray I continue to prioritize time with her, to play, to learn, and simply to be together. I pray I treat her with the same tenderness as I do now, so that she never doubts the blessing she is in my life.  But mostly, I pray I continue to surrender this whole parenting journey to a God who loves Charlotte more than my heart could ever fathom.

And, my friends, I pray the same for you.

XOXO,

Ali (Amber’s sister-in-law)

This post was written by Amber’s sister-in-law, Ali. For more real life moments from Ali, follow her on Instagram: @ali8209.

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