25 years ago, I was hours away from meeting her for the first time. These were not fun hours, and when after a day and a half of labor I was told to "push," I knew for sure that everyone in the room was crazy. I remember feeling so helpless being at the mercy of people who had lost their minds, and were trying to make me do something impossible.
I tried to convince them that there was another way (maybe a secret zipper, somewhere) - and when that did not go anywhere, I begged for a C-section.
But they were stubborn, and I was in their hands. So I pushed, and at 2:15 pm, on May 21, 1992, she arrived. Her dad wept as she was placed on my belly, all perfect and pink.
That night, with her in my arms and everyone else asleep, we locked eyes and the rest of the world faded away.
Just hours old, she held my gaze for close to an hour as we melted fully into one another one last time. That night, a wordless promise was made.
25 years later, this promise is upheld over and over again.
And today, it includes finding my way towards making her a vegan tiramisu.
SCARED OF THE SACRED