Dear Sweet Ella Jo

Dear Sweet Ella Jo Nguyen (no you are not in trouble),

Every time anyone says Ella's whole entire name she jokingly asks if she's in trouble. EVERY SINGLE TIME. I don't think she's ever really been in big trouble. Well, that was that phase with the toothpaste and soap painting in the bathroom! I am still not sure what that was all about anyway. OH, and there was the time mama went to dinner with her Auntie KK and came home to find the bathroom tiles painted with mascara. Honestly, that really was not her fault either. After all Daddy should have caught that one, right?

Today my baby girl turned 8. 8! E-I-G-H-T! That is 1/2 way to driving. When she triples this age she'll be done with college and either making her way in the world or maybe in graduate school. Unimaginable on one hand and somewhat foreseeable on the other.

Someone told me today that 8 is the last year without attitude. Ella tries to pull a little bit of attitude sometimes but I look at her as if to say "are you for real?" and she smiles or giggles and can't keep it up. 'Tude! Oh my.

When I first found out I was pregnant (well right after the OMG THIS THING HAS TO COME OUT SOMEHOW THOUGHT ... I bet that flashes through every first time mom's mind), I secretly hoped for a girl (Sorry, Max!!). The truth of the matter is my husband is one of 5 boys. His mom kept going until she couldn't try anymore. She really wanted a girl. Of my kids' 12 cousins on the Nguyen side there are 3 girls and 9 boys! My side is much more equitable. My cousins are pretty evenly split. Still, I pretty much resigned myself to a boy (at least first) - none of the brothers on my hubby's side ever had a girl first. Until Ella.

My Ella, we had a roller coaster of a pregnancy with you. Nothing like the crazy less than 5% survival chances we got with Max, but eventful nonetheless!

I am not one who remembers a lot of specific details but I remember every detail of that afternoon, evening and morning. Vividly. I remember where we parked at the Pentagon City Best Buy. I remember driving myself to the hospital. After all, I wasn't in labor yet! I remember unpacking my things in my hospital and starting the medicines that were supposed to bring you into the world. I remember my mama and my best friend Jen going in search of lifesavers in the wee hours of the morning because they wouldn't let me eat or drink and I was desperately craving something fruity. I remember your daddy sleeping through MOST of my labor. Someone forgot to tell him its called "Labor & delivery!" I remember drifting in and out of sleep through the night waiting for you. I remember waking to see my doctor sitting at my bedside checking your vitals and mine. I remember her making the split second decision to deliver you because she didn't like something she was seeing.

She made the decision at 5 till 6am. You were born at 6:06am. She was not an over reactive kind of doc. I remember holding my breath from the moment she said with urgency but not panic we are going to get you to out and watching as she, herself, unplugged monitors and cables from the wall and began to push me, herself, down the hall to the O.R. I remember her asking me as she placed the scalpel on my tummy if I could feel it. Yes, uh huh, yep, no. I remember seconds later hearing your first cry. I remember breathing again and tears flowing down my cheeks. I remember your head full of black hair and your tiniest fingers and toes, your perfect nose, your sharp little ankles (they had been slicing me from the inside I swear).

Most of all, I remember feeling completely in love and like I was the luckiest woman in the world. I remember feeling whole. You, my sweet Ella, were meant to be here, in our lives. I thank you so much for all of the joy and innocence and love and silliness you bring to our lives. I simply cannot imagine life without you and I could not be prouder of anything in my life than I am of being your mother.

Love,
Mama