My first baby. You know, no one can prepare you for motherhood. No amount of advice, stories, warnings, or the like can prepare anyone for what being a mother is like. No one could have prepared me for the sleeplessness. No one could have coached me through not crying during her first shots. There was not a single person that could have warned me of how my heart would break the day we were told she was autistic. And most of all, no one on this earth could have prepared me for how my heart would swell with indescribable love at the mere sight of this girl God entrusted to Eric and me. Megan. Sweet, kind, genuine, innocent Megan Olivia Strauss. God has had a special plan for her even from the time he put her name on our hearts. It means Pearl, which is so fitting for her. A perfect, pure beauty slowly and carefully crafted from a rough grain of sand. To know her is to fall completely in love with her love of life and everyone around her. I have never in my life met anyone as kind as this child. She can't stop herself from complimenting strangers as she walks by them on the street. She cried at the first wedding she went to when she was seven because she thought the bride must have been so happy. She is already a teacher to her siblings, a caretaker of her friends, and a daily reminder of God's constant presence in our lives. I am thankful every day that God gave us the opportunity to learn from her and love her and call ourselves her parents. As much as I ache for the days of Johnson and Johnson baby hair smell and her tiny lips rooting on my cheeks when I'd hold her up to my face, I eagerly await seeing her grow and conquer every day of her life. I am Megan's mommy. Lucky me.
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