One day, I knew you were there inside me, and those first few months were filled with happiness and indescribable moments. I loved your father so much, and I still love him so much. For me, being pregnant was a huge “wow.” That famous month when I was supposed to start feeling you move—for me, it was more of a premonition that something was happening, something out of the ordinary. The doctor told me, “That’s normal, ma’am; it’s your first baby, and it depends on how the baby is positioned.” At that very moment, I wasn’t convinced. One evening, just by chance, I saw a shooting star in the sky and immediately thought I had to make a wish for a healthy baby—and a daughter (if possible)—who would be one of a kind.
At 7 months pregnant, I knew you were a girl: already one wish come true. And yes, a girl—but then, boom! Fetal growth restriction and low amniotic fluid. I knew it. So, to keep you in my belly as long as possible, I had tons of ultrasounds. Two months later, at 37 weeks, things were still going well, but I had a tiny, tiny belly and didn’t feel pregnant like those women who have very big bellies at the end of their pregnancies. In short, you weren’t moving enough—I even had to count your kicks. It wasn’t the birth I’d dreamed of, but rather a C-section.
Surprise number two: you have red hair, blue eyes, weigh only 4 lbs, and measure 16 inches. After plenty of tests, there was no explanation for this. Diagnosis: a healthy little baby. After two weeks, you were discharged from the hospital. For six years, I wanted to believe them, though I had a slight doubt. Today, at age 14, we’ve known for three years that my hunch was right: you have a fairly rare bone condition.
A mom can’t be wrong—she has to trust her instincts. My beautiful, tall redheaded daughter, your shooting star will bring you luck; we’ll help you and support you through every test and exam you’re undergoing right now. We love you....
Karyne Cloutier