What I want.

I've already posted about how I occasionally think terrible thoughts about losing Makena, but I rarely think about the opposite, her losing me. We watched a movie tonight where the little boy of about 7 loses his mom. She just suddenly was very sick and died of cancer. It's so sad because it can and does happen.

And it got me thinking. If I was sick and knew I only had a short time left I'd start preparing as many things as possible. I'd write in a journal every day for Makena, pouring out words of love and my hopes and dreams for her as she grows. I'd video tape myself reading favorite books and just talking about life. I'd record my voice singing and humming all the songs I'd want her to remember. I wouldn't want her for one second to wonder how much I loved her.

And that's all so scary to think about, getting sick out of nowhere and knowing the end is coming. But it's even worse to imagine a car crash, or some other horrible death that happens without the chance to leave anything behind. It seriously terrifies me.

Part of me has always been worried about dying. I mean, I'm sure we all worry/think about it sometimes. But I can remember times when I was a teenager and wrote in my diaries wondering if my words would be read like Anne Frank's some day. (Not to imply my story is anything near as fascinating as hers.) When I was younger I remember wondering if I'd ever have a baby, or if I'd die before then. Or before I ever fell in love and got married.

But here I am, about to turn 30, married, with a baby. I have everything I wanted, so I need to think of what else I want. More children to share this life with, a sibling for Makena to love and grow up with. More family time. More vacations and trips and fun. More happiness and way less grumpiness. More smiles and less tears.

But more than anything I want Makena to know how much I love her. Every day I tell her, multiple times. She is the best thing in my entire world. Even my worst days now are my best days, compared to before she was born. I see her or think of her and my whole being is filled with overwhelming love. And intense gratitude. I'm thankful all the time that she's who she is. Smart, kind, funny, silly, loving, thoughtful, beautiful, sweet. She's growing into her own person more and more each day, and I love her. I love her because I'm her mom, because she's a part of me, but also because she's this amazing little girl who continuously astounds me. I can't adequately express how I feel. I can only hope that some day she has a child of her own so she can experience this love, and know for certain how I feel.