Lipstick Cover-Up

My oldest, Emmy, turns 8 years old today. The memories of the past 8 years have been flooding my head since last night. Where was I , what was I doing, etc. The picture that keeps popping up in my head is my Daddy holding my newborn daughter in his arms at the foot of my bed.

It was a very rough labor, 36 hours, pushed for 4, then a c-section, she was a very big baby by my standards, 10 lbs. 2 ounces, 22 inches of pure love. Her apgar was low, I felt horrible, had an allergic reaction, had blisters all over my stomach and incision and my milk never came in. Starving newborn, bleeding milkless nipples, pain ridden body. And it still ranks as one of the best days of my life. My husband had gone home for a shower and food, my mother was in the hall yelling at the nurses (sidenote, this was before my mother became the selfish selfabsorbed person she is today) for not doing something correctly. You see my mother was an OB-GYN nurse in labor and delivery for over 20 years, she knew right from wrong.

Well, my Daddy was holding Emmy as I drifted in and out, and when ever my eyes fluttered open he'd say, "just you rest now honey, the medicines are working, you just need to rest, me and my little doodle bug here are just fine, close your eyes." For hours he did this, I'd wake when she needed to eat, try and breast feed and pass back out. He's the one that told me I didn't have to breastfeed to be a good mother. Told me those "breastfeeding Nazis" wouldn't be allowed in the room to guilt me anymore. If there was no milk then formula was just fine. This kid had to eat, her bilirubin was through the roof, she needed to EAT and flush it out. I did give her the formula, my boobs thanked me for it, and my stomach started to heal. My Daddy took the guilt I was feeling away.

Last night Emmy asks me if Grandpa knows tomorrow is her birthday even though he's in Heaven. Of course he knows I tell her. He'll send you a big hug and kiss, you'll feel him.

The day Emmy was diagnosed with cancer, the first person I called from our pediatricians office was my Daddy. It was after 5pm on Friday night, my parents were supposed to watch the kids for us, it was our anniversary. I called and said, Daddy you have to meet me at the hospital, they're admitting Emmy, it's either a viral brain infection or cancer and I can't do this I think.

He told me of course I could, it would be fine whatever happened, he'd meet us at the hospital. And he did, he and Mom were waiting for us when we got there. He showed me the strength I didn't think I had. He gave my doodle bug the strength to face her battle with dignity and grace. He and my mom helped us perservere and helped us pay the bills in those rough times when the insurance you expect to be there really doesn't cover much. Through ADD, brain injury, and all the other things that have come and gone for Emmy, my family has made it. More importantly, she has done it. She's one of the strongest kids I know, mentally and physically. She loves with abandon. She speaks her mind all the time. She teaches me patience and gratitude.

Well, today we celebrate Emmy. Her life, her gift of gab (wonder where she got that from), her energy (wish I had half of it), her amazing heart so full of love for all things and acceptance of others. My little girl is 8 and turning into such a beautiful little lady it's hard to bear sometimes, before I blink she'll be off to college probably. Oh how I dread the teen years, they frighten me the thought of them, I hear friends talk of their teens sometimes and I shiver. But if Daddy did it with 4 girls, I can do it with mine too. Doodle bug is doing great Dad, thanks for all your help.

In my father's final weeks of life he told me to take care of my family. Take care of my kids never let them forget for a second that they are loved unconditionally. Even when they argue, even when they are wearing me out, make sure they know I love them no matter what.

I love you Emmy! Always always always. You are my doodle bug and a hero in my eyes!

Happy Birthday.