My firstborn turns eighteen today. These words don’t seem possible. Sometimes when she’s talking to me late at night, I still picture a toddler standing by my bed, explaining in broken speech why she’s gotten out of her own bed. It’s the same sweet face and the same tender heart, but now here stands a beautiful young woman, speaking with clarity and conviction. My Lillie is ready to launch into adulthood. The countdown has begun.
I do not know the date in August when we will move her into the conservatory. I don’t want to know it; my heart isn’t ready. It’s some future day on the calendar that I have dreaded since she was in the womb. I remember driving home from the baby store having just purchased a crib. Patrick and I spoke about how time would fly. We dreamed of making the most of it. One of us mentioned that we would blink and the crib would convert into a big-kid bed, and then we would blink again, and it would be a headboard for a teenager’s bed. We both started crying—and we hadn’t even met her yet!
Liliana Gabriel Fata was born at 7:59 a.m., May 1, 2007. The morning sun shone through the window and landed on my face while I labored to bring her into the world. With this new dawn, our lives changed forever. Our dark-haired baby girl’s first cry sounded like my name, “Maaa, maaa, maaa.” She spoke to my heart with her very first breath.
Patrick and I can’t mention the rapidly approaching fateful day at the end of summer without welling up. We’re aware that the countdown has begun, but we take comfort in believing she’s ready. In God’s good grace, He will prepare our hearts for this letting go. I wish I could report that we have no regrets in our parenting, that we always made the most of our time. It seems we still fail every day! Even while trying to absorb these precious hours, they slip through our fingers like water. And when we try to hold on, we end up clipping her wings instead of being the wind beneath them. This launch season is not for sissies!
I am aware that I must fire myself from certain parenting jobs in order to protect my future role as the mother of an adult. I stumble through this endeavor every single day. I’m not a fan of this process, but I know the Lord has purposed it, so I swallow hard and put one foot in front of the other. I remind myself of the tremendous blessings of these eighteen years, and I swell up with gratitude. Every evening, I give Lillie back to the One who gave her to me. She stands by my bed, holds my hand, and I sing the same song she’s heard at bedtime for eighteen years…
Love came down from heaven
May first, two-thousand-seven
The sun shone through the window bright
Lit the room and filled our lives
Never been the same since love came
Love came down from heaven
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