As sure as my name is Karen, I'm sure that I want me a baby girl. I just do. Think I've always wanted this - clear back as far as I can remember. When I was 12, I busied myself thinking up names for all the many children I would have one day. I believe there were eight total. Eight children! I can't even imagine it now, but at the ripe old age of 12 - when I knew everything there was to know about life and living and grown up responsibilities - I wanted 8 youngins. Summer, Tara, Heidi, Annie, Barbie, Rene, Maria, Tiffany, Jennifer, Samantha, Joshua and Michael. See why I want a baby girl? I had so many perfect names for all my many daughters, but struggled to come up with even two names for my sons. So I want a baby girl. Wanted her then and want her now. While my name selection has changed from the childlike "Summer", to a wiser, more mature list including Abigail, Betsy, Elizabeth, Jessica, Katherine, Laura, Lanie, Mallory and Scout (yes, as in To Kill a Mockingbird), not much else has changed. The idea that I would be a wonderful mother is, on most days, first and foremost in my mind. The older I get, the more I think about what I have given up. . . my ability to have a child. My body has now passed the baby-making stage and moved into the stage where I'm better suited (at least physically) to be a grandma. Ick! How I hate the thought of that. I don't want to be a grandma. I want to be a mom. A mother, a mommy, a mama, a mom, a ma. It's not natural to be a grandmother without ever having been a mom. It's just not. Least not for me it's not. If I were a mom what would I do? Above all, I would love my child unconditionally. I would let her (or him) know each and every day how much they are loved. Not only would I tell my child that I loved her, I would show her every opportunity I was given. I would "show up" when showing up meant something. To all the things that were important to her - I'd be there. I'd be the parent she could always count on no matter what. I would sing to her and play with her and dress her up in fancy clothes and play make-up. I would curl her hair and take her shopping and bake cookies with her every Sunday morning. I would set a time aside every single week that would be our "girl" time. Just she and I. We'd have a special activity that the two of us would do each and every week. I can think of at least 100 things I would enjoy doing with my daughter. But that's selfish of me, so I think I'd wait til she was old enough and then let her pick our special activity. Whatever was fun for her, then that's what we'd do. Not only would I love my child unconditionally and plan activities for the two of us, I would expose her all the religions of the world. Help her get in touch with her spiritual side. We would go to a new church or temple or synagogue or mosque every month until we found something that resonated with her. I've come to realize that spirituality is so very important. Without it, humans are like robots. I wouldn't want my child to go through life all mechanical and stiff like. I would want her to live a full, spiritual life, and I would help her discover and then embrace that part of herself. Culture is important too, I believe, to live a complete and balanced life. For this reason, my daughter and I would spend time together learning about different world cultures. We'd spend time in libraries and museums and theaters. We'd go to concerts together - everything from classical to celtic to blues and reggae. If we could afford to travel the world, then we would. Otherwise, we'd spend time learning about the four corners of the earth on a computer in the comfort of our living room. We'd wear our PJ's, snack on popcorn and read all about Bangladesh one night and Peru the next. So many things I'd love to do - to share - with my daughter. Above all, I'd consider it a privilege to get to know her. The real her. Who she is on the inside. What she loves and what she fears. What goals she has, what dreams she dreams. Who she wants to be and how she wants to get there. Above all, I'd teach my child that she is perfect - just as she is. She'd never have to apologize for what she feels or thinks or says. In my world, she would be free to be who and what she is. I'd love her unconditionally and I'd teach her - from the day of her birth - to love herself. . . unconditionally. So to my little Scout, mommy loves you madly and can't wait to get to heaven to meet you. Until then, look inside when you want to be with me, cause I'm right there. . . in your heart. . . and always will be.
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