Holding my Breath for Genevieve

*Sometimes I write blogs and, for whatever reason, they go unpublished.  This was written a couple months after Gigi was born and seemed appropriate to share on her first birthday*

Dear Genevieve,

Once your Dad and I left the Las Vegas temple and your dad held my hand and told me we would have a daughter and her name would be Genevieve.  It was a bright sunny December day and I cried.

I want you to know that before you were conceived we prayed for you by name.  That I sat in our empty bedroom and clung to your clothes and cried.  That sometimes I sat in that tiny bedroom and begged you to come to me.  And I fell often to my knees and asked Heavenly Father to send you to me because I couldn't stand the lacking.

I want you to know that your pregnancy was hard.

I want you to know even in the moment you were born, I held my breath.  My world stood still, and then you were finally here.  And you cried, and I cried, and I finally stopped holding my breath for you.  I want you to know that holding my breath for two years was a long time.

I want you to know these things because never in my life have a wanted something so badly.  Because someday I want you to know that we prayed, and fought, and lost, and tired again and again and again to get you here because we wanted you here.  Because we knew that you were supposed to be here.  Because you were our daughter before you were formed in my womb.  Because you were mine when you were only just a dream, a begging, and a prayer.

So I want you to know that we loved you before you were here, and we love you more each day.

Love,

Mom