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It's a Girl? It's a Girl!
By S.D. Craig.
Published April 2003

Both times the doctor said these words, I was overjoyed for some of the same, and many different reasons.

In 1975, I felt overwhelmed at age twenty-three, little more than a kid myself, now a new mother with another new beginning and a new little girl. Where was the hair, was she okay, was she going to talk early, walk early, what would she sound like, who would she look like, what would she grow up to be? I was grateful all her fingers and toes were attached, her body was healthy, her lungs worked. I was terrified I wouldn't be the best mother, then I realized I would be the best I could be, and that's all she'd need of me.

In 1980, most of the same reasons above applied. I had lived another five years of life, now approaching age twenty-eight. I was older and wiser, but not by much. Again, I wondered all about her: where was the hair, was she okay, was she going to talk early, walk early, what would she sound like, who would she look like, what would she grow up to be? I was grateful all her fingers and toes were attached, her body was healthy, her lungs worked.

But this time, I knew more.

For with two daughters, the whole world became something it hadn't been before. I had helped to create a very special thing -- sisters. And for a mother, this was a bond I gave them as only a mother could. A gift I knew they'd always have, for the rest of their lives and beyond.

Yes, I am smart enough to know there would be hard knocks, hissyfits and arguments galore, as they grew into young adults, young women with minds of their own. I realized their personalities were really not alike at all, though they shared parents and chromosomes and all of that. And I gloried in the fact that this was so.

With each year, I watch them separate and become more their own woman, their own personalities, even yet. They glow in ways only they can, each with their own wonderful qualities, some alike (more than they'd agree on) and some quite unalike. I watch as distinct character traits continue to develop, and that I, for the most part, admire in them, encourage in them. Sometimes it's apparent there are things of me they've picked up, learned, and now know or feel. I'm embarrassed to admit I should've known they were watching me. Always. And emulating and listening. As children do.

It's my wish that they know respect and fairness, love and kindness, patience and wisdom. Well, wisdom comes with years, and I guess that's one of the perks I've found out about at age fifty. There's hope that, in all their beauty and wonder that they do believe (yes, I still feel wonder when I look at each of them, that I had a hand in their making, their creation, their development, SUCH an important job!). That no matter what happens in their day-to-day lives or the world, in peace or at war, in the silence and ignorance of quiet living, and the denial that horrible things can happen to good people, and the terror of realization that it can all shatter in one mere second - that they grasp the most important gift I gave them.

Each other.

I pray they realize how lovely, how unique they each are. And that is also my gift to them. That they appreciate those qualities, expound on them in one another. Use them to make each of them whole and happy. I want for them to know how lucky they are that they are their own person, that they can offer to each other that separate knowledge, that different point of view, that "other" look at the world when each needs a shoulder to cry or lean on. A new perspective, a valued opinion, a loyal friend above all others. This they have.

In 1975, I was still naive. In 1980, I thought I wasn't. In 2003, I am much wiser, not naive, and I know what I want as a woman, wife and mother. For my daughters, I know they are smarter than I was at their age. They've got a ways to go to be smarter than their Mother now. And that's a good thing. That's the perk of being a mother and having lived and experienced all I have. It's a good benefit for the children, the grandchildren.

All I have ever asked is this: Keep them safe and warm. Let them love and laugh unabashedly together. Let them sing and dance in the rain. Give them sunflowers and daisies every day. Let there be no judgement but only hugs, cute greeting cards, compassion, empathy and support.

And make love unconditional for them - for that is the best gift of all.

P.S. And oh yessss, let them savor chocolate together without shame.

About the writer: SD Craig is a freelance writer and editor of LovingYourCurves.com and was given the nickname "Chatterbox" by fellow writers. At age fifty, Craigs Southern flair and sense of humor give her plenty to write about with a rapier wit and a wacky outlook. Her articles on body image (her biggest passion), marriage/divorce and relationships, family, friends, career issues, computers, the Internet, horses, baseball, movie reviews and writing tips remind one of Erma Bombeck or Dave Barry. A freelance writer who once juggled five columns then got real, Craig welcomes your e-mails and feedback on her articles. Drop her a hello at sdcraig922@yahoo.com or stop by www.lovingyourcurves.com.

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