Dear Ana,
Seven years ago today, I was standing in the corner of a delivery room in Fort Worth, holding onto a charm that said “Mommy.” I was still waiting for the nurses to come in and start the Pitocin, and I was scared to death. It was time — you were past due, and I was past done with being pregnant in the Texas heat. But still. I didn’t have any idea what to expect out of anything. Labor, delivery, BEING SOMEONE’S MOTHER — you know, the little things.
Later that afternoon, after one last push, they handed you right over to me. And you didn’t look anything like I thought you would. Tiny, delicate features, big, huge eyes, and such loud screaming that I wasn’t even sure if I should touch you at all, lest you scream even louder. The nurses actually had to tell me to touch you because I was just that shell-shocked.
From that moment on, you schooled me. I should’ve known during those early days that you were going to be smarter than me (and how) because by the time I’d figure out what it was that was making you scream your tiny head off, I could’ve sworn that you rolled your big blue eyes at me before finally letting me soothe you. So glad one of us knew what she was doing!
I love how in charge you are. I love how analytical you are, how logically your mind works. I love how you always have a plan and a detailed explanation to go with whatever you’re attempting to do. I love that you truly don’t believe that anything is impossible for you. I love that you love Jesus, not because we’ve told you but because you know it in your heart and you read the truth of it in Scripture. (And that you regularly enjoy expositing that Scripture to us. In laborious detail.) I love that even though you have a no nonsense approach to life, you still have a tender heart. I love that you know what you want, when you want it, and how you want it done. I love that you’re secure in being Ana Katharine Faulk.
I hope you have a wonderful seventh birthday today. I’m so proud to be your mommy, and I love you so much.
Mommy
Jenn Faulk 