You hear it all the time. You might have even said it yourself a time or two, especially if you’re a mom. But time really flies when you’re raising kids. They grow up so fast, that you turn around from throwing the last diaper in the trash and they are wearing a cap and gown, graduating from eighth grade.
That’s where we are in my house.
Most of you know my Eilis story. After trying for 10 years and experiencing four miscarriages, a psychic told me I was pregnant. Yep, a New Orleans street psychic. We had tried and tried again with fertility medication, and had failure and loss after failure and loss. I think before we left for that cross country vacation, we had pretty much decided we were done trying. Nothing good was coming from it. And there I was, in New Orleans, sitting across from a pixie-like psychic, asking the question about whether we’d ever have another child. The smile that came across her face was one you normally see on the face of someone in handcuffs as they are about to declare their innocence for a mass murder spree due to reasons of insanity, but I so wanted to believe her when she said, “It’s already taken care of.”
A little more than a year later, we celebrated Eilis’ first birthday with a Mardi Gras party.
I love all of my children, and I believe I love them all equally, but Eilis is truly different. The other two are huggy, kissy kind of kids. Eilis makes you work for it. She doesn’t just pass out hugs and kisses at whim – you know you deserved it if you get an Eilis hug. Her laugh, which I always thought was contagious when she was a baby, is absolutely infectious now. Maybe it’s because she’s a teenager and I don’t hear it as often, but my whole body feels happy when Eilis is laughing.
She has always stood up for what she believed – whether it was demanding a blue crayon when her preschool teacher told her she didn’t need it for a fall picture or when she was making dinner for families at the Ronald McDonald House. She has and always will make a difference in this world, not just in my life, but in the lives of those around her.
Eilis is my miracle baby – the one I prayed for, longed for, and cried for. She continues to amaze me, impress me, and astonish me simply by the fact that I gave birth to this incredible person.
I’m so proud of her every day, but as I get ready to watch her get her certificate for graduating eighth grade, I am even more proud. She has overcome bullying, survived middle child syndrome, and blossomed into the most amazing human being. I can’t wait to see where she takes this incredible life.