The other night, I had to run to Walgreens to pick up a prescription for Etta. I grabbed some C batteries for the baby swing and headed to the pickup window.
“I’m here to pick up a prescription for my daughter.”
Outwardly, I continued to have a typical interaction with the pharmacist, but the minute the words “my daughter” left my lips, my internal conversation went something like this: “Holy crap, I have a daughter. I have a DAUGHTER. I have TWO DAUGHTERS. Daughter, daughter, daughter daughter.” The word sort of ceased to have any meaning and began to sound sort of foreign in my head.
I mean, somehow, that phrase, “my daughter” just blows my mind. I had already kind of processed that I have babies, but realizing that they’re my daughters? Well, it gives me all kinds of visions of who these little people will grow up to be.
My DAUGHTERS. Photo by Christen Byrd.
What a precious picture!
I still freak out a bit when I mention my daughter.I am not sure at what point that stops being odd.
My kid will be six in June. Sometimes when he says something about his mom, I have to remember that’s me. It’s weird how that happens over and over.
You went through a lot to get to this moment!! Isn’t it incredible???
Beautiful baby girls! You truly are doing a remarkable job. I never cease to be amazed that i was trusted with two little people to help them become all they can be until they go off on their own. What a ginormous responsibilty, I think to myself. Congrats on your two DAUGHTERS