Placing the Fabric....the Square of perfection...

The purpose of a family quilt is to have a blanket that will last a lifetime. A blanket that memories can be shared in as you cuddle in it whether it be with a spouse, children or grandchildren. Our family quilt was no different so for the first square, I added Kayla-Beth...
After suffering the loss of a child in my teens and the devestating miscarriage of a set of twin girls at nineteen weeks, I was more than just a little eager to try again. So when I found out that I was three months pregnant and due in the early spring with a child, I was more than just a little thrilled- I was estatic.
And it was a marvelous pregnancy. No morning sickness, no fatique, okay, so there was incredible weight gain, but I didn't care-if this baby was born happy and healthy that was all that mattered to me. But we were so young and babies need so much. So once again I pulled out the needle, thread, and fabric and made everything any little baby would need. I went crazy; baby outfits, nighties, burp rags, blankets, bumper pads, and bibs.
And as the time drew near and my anticipation heightened, I became acutely aware of the circumstances in which my child would grow up. I knew in no uncertain terms that I needed to put away certain aspects of my life. I needed to settle down. My child needed a mother, a real mother whose soul purpose was to live for him or her for the rest of my life. And so I did. I just gave up the bad habits. I gave up the things that don't fit into a "family" lifestyle. Unfortunately, I did this alone and although two more years would remain of our marriage, that for me was the beginning of the end. I soon came to realize that in all probability, I would be a single mother.
But a baby was on the way. A baby, my baby. A baby that I had lived for, prayed for, and dreamed  of all my life. A baby would finally, finally give me someone to love and care for. The baby would give me a purpose and help me have that connection with one other person who could never hurt me or walk away.
And she did. On St. Patrick's Day, March 17, 1984...Kayle Beth came four weeks early weighing four pounds and twelve ounces and she was beautiful- absolutely beautiful if the truth be told. Her birth was more than a little frightening though. I was having lunch at a local restaurant and suddenly I had a pain, then two, then three. They came closer and closer and before I knew what was happening, we had to have a C-section. I was delivering a breech baby and she was coming as fast as her little feet could kick her way out. And so, two children ourselves, we entered the operating room and together waited for that first cry to come as they ushered our daughter into the world. With much apprehension, we waited and when she was delivered, there was a small faint "wah" which soon grew to a louder "Wah" and eventually a "WAH". So, fully satisified, with tears of joys running down our cheeks, we held our little girl whom we waited for for so long.

But she was so small, and to a young mother, her size was intimidating.She was a breathtaking china doll that I was never allowed to touch as a child. Yet here she was, mine- mine to touch , hold, dress, and love forever. She had sparkling blue eyes, a thin layer of blonde hair, and the tiniest nose I had ever seen on a baby. And her feet- her feet were so delicate and cute. I kissed and sucked on them every chance I got. And her smell, she smelled like every pink carnation I had ever dreamed of...she was perfection. She was my first live baby doll.
And she was so perfect and I was thrilled. She loved to snuggle, and cuddle, and coo. She was the baby every first time mother ever dreams of. I could rock her for hours on end. I never tired of wanting to hold and love on her. In fact it was three months before I even let my own mother spend any real time with her.. I just couldn't get enough of her. I didn't want to get enough of her. I worried over her. I prayed over her. But mostly I just marveled over her.
The love affair that began at that time was the first taste I had of true motherhood and in me it sparked an insatious appetite for children that to this day has never been quite filled.
I remember rocking my little girl one night, hours after she'd been asleep, singing her lullabies, stroking her little back, and wondering how anyone could ever love a child as much as I loved her. Little did I know, I would one day find out...nine fold.