The Gift of Life

I was asked if I planned to have more children recently and said I couldn’t. Physically, maybe. But the visceral reaction I get from the mere thought of it tells me otherwise. They say it might not be the same the next time around. However, what I have witnessed is not something I can do again. I touch the door in my mind, and I instantly start to cry. I remind myself that I have more purpose in saving the children than having my own.

But my one and only.

She is the manifestation of my spirit.
She is everything that is right with me, but we work on correcting ourselves when something is wrong.
I get glimpses of my attitude, which runs through her veins, and my heart grows more.
We walk hand in hand through life, sharing its ups and downs, laughs, and cries.
She used to be my reason for getting out of bed, but I realized that was a heavy burden for her to carry.
So, I found my reason in myself. I’ve learned to fill my cup and overflow in hers.
I taught her how to fill her cup and when she couldn’t reach out for help.
Whew, my girl is everything I wanted to be as a child, but it took me until adulthood to reach my goals.
I raise her on purpose with a purpose.
When I think of the gift of life, I think of her.