Mia Turned 10

Today my daughter turned 10.

It's a bittersweet moment for me. I'm excited that she's entered the double digits and has a lot to look forward to come her teenage years...and yet...my heart is heavy with the thoughts of yesterday...

Ten years ago at 9:43am and four hours of labor, she entered this world- all 7lbs 12oz. of her. Like any new mother, as soon as my eyes met hers, the love was instanstaneous. Her tiny little hand grasped my finger and she fit so perfectly in my arms; at that very moment, nothing else in the world mattered.

I named her Mia Angelica. I wanted a name that was short and sweet but exuded confidence and strong will. After seeing the world renowned soccer player, Mia Hamm, on T.V. I knew that was the name I wanted.

When we brought her home from the hospital, she had what seemed like, a never-ending bout with colic. There were many sleepless nights and endless tears (and that was just me). I thought I was supposed to have one of those "perfect" babies that you see on T.V.- you know, those shiny, smiley babies that never cry. I was in for such a rude awakening. She hated sleeping in her crib, always wanted to be held and insisted on falling asleep on my chest every time.

Mia hated to be away from me. I could not leave the room without her wailing like someone was pulling her toenails out one by one with a pair of rusty pliers. She always wanted to be carried and had to have me at arm's length at all times. I thought this phase would never end and that I would forever be joined at the hip with her.

But as time went on, she started to need me less and less...

She no longer needs me to kiss her goodbye when I drop her off at school in the morning (that just doesn't happen in 4th grade). She pours her own milk in her cereal bowl. She showers and gets ready for school by herself. When she talks with her best friend, Jade on the phone, she leaves the room. She doesn't need me to hold her hand anymore when crossing the street. She closes the bathroom door now and and can tie her own ponytail. She has her own opinions ...her own thoughts...her own dreams.What happened to that little hand that grabbed my finger so tightly 10 years ago?

All this time, she had been letting go; without me noticing, she slowly unleashed her grip from my finger and also...my life.

Independence replaced me.

As I sit here tonight watching her sleep, I can't help but feel sad. My little girl is growing up. Her little round face has metamorphasized overnight right in front of me. Her long bodyframe and her size 5 narrow feet show all the signs of a beauty in the making. I no longer see the chubby, fat toes of a toddler or a sticky mouth of a first grader.

I wipe away my "happy tears" and bend down to feel her cheek and kiss her forehead...

and out of nowhere...

she reaches for my finger

and holds tight...