I’m learning to cherish my daughter’s larger-than-life spirit and mission.
The moment after my daughter, Grace, was born, she looked at me right in the eyes, pumped her fist in the air, and communicated a powerful “Let's do this."
5:27 am, in the birthing tub that sat in my home's living room, I got to watch the stars outside my big windows twinkle and shine as I felt that immediate urge to push. One push in, I felt a voice from within “I'm coming now." And she pushed through. My consciousness seemingly left my body in for an instant, and when it returned, it brought with it this new gorgeous being.
That wasn't the first time I heard her voice announcing her arrival. Earlier that year, I was lying on my deck resting in the warmth of the sun while my 14-month0old son napped. Out of nowhere, I heard a voice come through me—“I'm here." “We aren't ready for you yet," I told her. My husband and I were planning to think about a second child when Tucker turned two. As life would have it—we had a three-month-old baby girl by the time he had his second birthday.
That voice that sunny summer's day was correct. She was here. She was, in fact, about 16 weeks along in my womb, having arrived there without me knowing. I was still nursing my son, had no menstrual cycle yet, and wasn't looking for any signs of pregnancy. She was the easiest pregnancy imaginable, no morning sickness, no added exhaustion, not much weight gain for a while. I had no idea this was her time. But she did.
My Grace was in charge of her arrival. She's been in charge ever since.
Grace is a powerhouse.
She's a tiny body, sparkly and pure, often described as sweet, which she is, but also feisty as anything. She's a fascinating combination of strength and softness. While incredibly empathetic, she also doesn't allow anyone to tread on her. In fact, I often find myself in awe of the ease she has moving through her world.
She arrived when her spirit was ready—not mine. She didn't ask me permission, she didn't wait for our plan, she forged ahead with the bigger plan her being had for her life.
And that's one of the biggest things she has taught me.
Our lives are bigger than we know. Our children are part of a plan bigger than ours. They are spirits coming through us to live their human life. We all are so much more than what we can see.
This is the truth I hold onto when I'm wading in the river of uncertainty. When our next steps don't seem clear, when the world outside our home seems too terrifying, when I wonder how to lead my children forward. Ever since Grace was born, she has been my touch stone into the other-worldly understanding that life is bigger than we know. She knew when her time was right. She reminds me that I'm not here to lead her. She's here at the precise time she needs to be, doing exactly what her being needs to do.
Our children have chosen to be born into this time. I have no doubt my daughter has her own plan, whether consciously or not. Her spirit has work to do here, and I trust her timing and her path.
As parents, I wonder if sometimes we assume we have more power over situations than we do.
I often get the sense that our children are here to guide us, instead of the other way around.
Believing that we are in completely in charge of our child's path is overwhelming. I've learned, as much as I can, to trust. It lifts a great load off my shoulders.
My Grace has deep purpose. I'm here to help create opportunity, to let her do her thing, to witness her unfolding.
She announced her arrival to my complete surprise.
She pumped her fist in my face and looked at me with determination.
She knows what to do.
Our children will guide us. We, as parents, need to learn to be quiet enough to hear their voices.