Thursday, August 13, 2015

My Wildflower

I think I have written about the precise moment the ultrasound tech told me Nora was a girl a dozen times on this blog.

Nathan danced a happy jig, Owen's eyes widened, and tears let loose from my mine. It keeps cropping up because it marked a distinct turning point in the flow of the Bunch. Not because this baby was of a different sex than the two before, but because of what that little girl would mean for us.

Days after that I remember wondering what type of girl she would be. I thought about raising a dainty little rose: an image of beauty that can't survive without endless pampering, only for her petals to be blown off with the slightest push of the wind. I knew better than to let that thought linger, though. My daughter would be a wildflower.

If Nora ends up changing her name to Aurora and wearing a tutu and heels for the next three years, that's fine by me. That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about what grows inside. I wanted my daughter to grow without ceasing in whatever direction she wants; wild and unruly and totally free. I wanted her to grow in the face of scorching heat and unrelenting rain. I wanted her path to twist and wind in ways she won't imagine. I wanted her to come back fighting when anything tried to drown her out. I wanted her strength and her joy and her persistence to be visible.

I guess sometimes we're lucky enough to get exactly what we want?

This blue-eyed beauty with tan lines in her arm creases and cotton candy hair is 100% a wildflower. Nora commands attention when she walks into a room. She can get anything she wants with a flash of the pearly whites and a well-placed please. She likes an order to her day, and she'll be the first to point out when someone isn't following it. She's also the first to rush over when someone is crying, the first to lean in for a good morning kiss, and the first to apologize when anger takes over {ahem, typically to Nathan}. Her attitude changes with the wind, and you can't help but grin when you see her. Nora will never let you forget she's there.

Yes, it's hard to remember I wanted this when my daughter is staring me down and threatening to pour juice on the carpet. She's only two and already driving me crazy, but I know it will be okay. I know exactly how much this strength will help her.

My kids won't always be who I want them to be, but I sure hope they're always themselves. I encourage them all, despite what the ultrasound tech announced at 20 weeks, to never lose that. Like my sons, my daughter can do anything she wants to do. I pray I can help her remember. I know she's little, I know she needs me, but boy, do I love the person she's becoming.

She's tough as nails, fiery as can be, and free as a wildflower. I am so proud to have her.

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Unknown said...

What a doll!

Unknown said...

What a tribute to your daughter! And I love the wildflower analogy

Unknown said...

So precious!

Jessica Bauer said...

Thank y'all so much! She is indeed a precious doll, but she makes up for her looks in attitude. :)