Fierce
When my daughter was two and a half years old, she did an amazing, exceptional job at being two and a half. Whether you wanted to call it the “terrible twos”, “head strong”, “strong willed” or just plain “stubborn” – my daughter had it with every part of her being and cell in her body.
Most days I rolled with it. Some of her behaviors I did my best to redirect while I tried not to laugh. There were, however, more days than not when saying “no” appeared to be the only word in my vocabulary. On these particular days, I would say “no” and my daughter would proceed to give me a sly smile, look me right in the eye and do whatever I said “no” to at least five more times.
My personal favorite is when I would tell her to do something, she would refuse and tell me, “No, sweetie.”
She liked testing more than the creators of the SAT exam.
Her sly smile had a certain glimmer that said, “Oh, yeah, Mommy? No? I am going to make you work for that ‘no’.”
Scratch that, she made me OWN my “No’s.”
That being said, if she wanted to rule the roost, she picked the wrong mother. I can hold a standoff and stand my ground for as long as I need to. (I’ve done five Ironman triathlons and countless marathons….endurance is something I’m really good at).
Even so, her toddler attempts at a coup d’etat were exhausting.
On one of “those” days, when she was testing, testing, TESTING…. I ended putting myself in timeout because, well, being by myself in the laundry room just felt peaceful.
As I sat between baskets of laundry, I thought about my daughter’s behavior and allowed myself to feel my frustration and sit with the uncomfortableness of that frustration.
As I sank into the angst, a memory of my daughter’s conception arose.
My daughter was conceived through IVF. When I went for the egg retrieval procedure, there were eleven eggs that had matured and were subsequently fertilized. After fertilization and a few days to mature, five of those embryos were still viable. The morning I went to have embryos implanted, only two were viable
Those two embryos were implanted into my uterus and two weeks later there was one heartbeat. At three weeks, there were two heartbeats, fraternal twins. At the six week ultrasound, only the embryo with the strongest heartbeat remained.
It was her.
She was fierce in her desire be here. Out of eleven embryos that I started with, one had the health, vitality, chutzpa, whatever you want to call it, to keep growing and develop into a living, breathing, beautiful baby girl.
I believe it was her fierce-ness that kept her going from the laboratory to my womb. It was her fierce-ness that kept her going after a stroke and it is still this quality that keeps her determination high and motivation strong to push through on her therapies and do what is difficult.
It is this fierce-ness in her love for life that make her family and those that don’t know her absolutely fall in love within minutes of meeting her. I mean, how can you not adore someone who tells you “no” with a “sweetie” attached to it?
I am so thankful I took my time out in the laundry room and allowed myself to sink into what my body was feeling. I got to see my daughter’s behavior differently as a result. Since that exile, I have been able to ride the waves of her tantrums with the inner knowing that fierce is who she is. Fierce will take her far. This spitfire spirit is what got her here and I absolutely love her for it.
Settling into my body and allowing it’s wisdom to guide me has never failed me. This treasure trove of knowledge is always there….if we are willing to listen.
My land of exile in the laundry room will always be there when needed. Until then, I am going to daughter’s fierce-ness, help her channel it into a way that will serve her and know that it is the very quality that got her to me.
Thanks for being you, sweetie.