Dear Lucy,

My Dearest Lucy,

I truly can't believe that it has been two years since you were born. It seems so cliche to say that time has whizzed by, and it seems that everyone is quick to warn an expectant mother, "Enjoy them while it last. They grow up so fast."

Two years ago today, I was entering turf I had never dreamed of being on. Motherhood was going to be hard enough, what with diaper changes and 2 am feedings. After a chemical and intervention-free labor and delivery, you were placed on my stomach for a mere 30 seconds. That was all it took for our eyes to lock, and both of our lives were changed forever. We had a few seconds of unspoken bonding, our skin touching, the kind of bonding that will last a lifetime, and then you were ripped away by nurses and placed on a warming bed for examination. I could not see you. You were placed on the other side of the room. You were not near me where you were supposed to be. Things were going all wrong, not the way I had planned.

I had adrenalin coursing through my new mommy veins, and I could have ran to help you but they would not let me. They stuck tubes in you, x-rayed you and placed you on the other side of the building. So far away from me. I could have ran to you, if they had let me. Four hours later, I was checking out of the hospital against medical advice, and following you in the ambulance that they were transporting you in. They would not let me ride with you.



Every second crept by. The first 24 hours seemed like weeks to me. They informed me that you had blockages in your intestines that needed to be repaired immediately. At 18 hours old, you were rushed into surgery. They let me see you for a few minutes before you went in. I felt like I was going to vomit, pass out but I did neither. I cried.

Hours later, you were out of surgery, and they tell me it was successful. On your birth day, my emotions were mixed, high and low. It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. You were in it. You were alive. You were finally here. January 13th, 2008 was the best and worst day of my life.

There was no talk of Cystic Fibrosis for over a week. I never even knew what CF was before you came along. The unknown was frightening to me. The doctors made no attempt to sugar coat the disease for me but I also knew that CF was not a death sentence, and treating you like a leper or feeling sorry for myself or you was not going to make our situation any better. Because of you and our new bond, I made a promise to you in that NICU, that I would do everything in my power to keep you the happiest, healthiest and most normal CF kid anyone has ever met.

I am certain that you do not remember me making that promise to you, being two weeks old and all, but I did. I whispered over and over in your ear, the things I wanted for you. The hopes for our future together as mother and daughter. I whispered to you my wishes for you to grow up not feeling sorry for yourself, to have the highest self-esteem to get you through the rough times.


As I rocked you, I promised that we would fight this disease together. I promised you that you would never have to be alone. I promised that I would do whatever it took to help keep you safe and healthy, no matter what. I promised that I would run to you if you needed me and I promised I would never let anyone stop me. Ever.

Two years have gone by since I made that promise. You have grown so much, and you have changed right before my eyes. I look into your huge blue eyes and I can see your future. Well, not really because I'm not psychic, but I can see that you have endless energy and spirit. You have grown so fast and time has flown by but there is not a moment that goes by that I don't cherish. Every moment with you is special. Every minute I spend with you makes me a better person. Every breath you take makes me sigh with relief.

You have come so far in two years from that infant in the NICU. I look at pictures like this...



...and I don't even recognize you. It is you, small, bloated, one-hour-old you, but you are so far removed from this place now that our 23 day stay in the NICU has become just a painful memory.

Every single day you make me laugh. You surprise me with your wit and intelligence. I love it when you read me books and sing me songs. I love it when you make up your own words to "Twinkle, Twinkle." I love it when you test my patience, push my buttons and see how far you can go without getting in trouble. I love that you like to wear your vest and nebulizer mask and even like to swallow your enzymes most of the time. I love it when you make it a game to see if you can shove all the pills in your mouth and swallow them all at once with out drinking milk with it.

I love every little thing about you. I love that you are still a little nursling and you ask me for milk when you are tired or upset. I love that you still do baby sign language even though you can say the words. I love it when you say, "Come'ere" or "Lemme hold you" when you want to be picked up and cuddled. I love that you like to swing high on the swings when we go to the park. I love it when you want to kiss my owies when I get hurt because you are so caring and kind by nature.


I love splashing in the puddles with you when it rains. I love the huge, tight curl that gathers on the back of your head. I love your artwork and when I ask you what it is that your colored, you say funny things like, "A pickle, Mommy!" or "Cinderella!"...as if I were supposed to know the whole time what it was. I love everything about you. You have fight. You have confidence and spirit. The kind of fight and spirit that you are born with, not the kind that can be taught. You are the most amazing little person and will soon grow into an amazing big person, right before my eyes. Way too fast.


Every single moment that I have with you is so special to me. I am taking it all in, and I am actually taking the unsolicited advice I got while I was pregnant with you. I am enjoying every moment I have with you. I am enjoying every moment while it is here because you are growing up so fast. I never take any time with you for granted.

Happy 2nd Birth Day, my little Lucia Ann. You are my beautiful little monkey, forever and always. I am so proud of you. I love you so very much.

Love always, Mommy