With an air of certainty, you say that you specifically asked God to send you to me when it was time for you to be born. Other times you ask: "If you had to pick a child as your own from a group of children, would you pick me?"
Without a moment's hesitation, faster than the blink of an eye, I say, "Yes!"
"And what if I was in the toilet while you were picking? Would you know to wait?"
Again it's a resounding "Yes!". It's always been "yes" with you Z, even though I'm told that an occasional
I guess you set it up that way as part of your negotiation with God during the mother-picking stage, arranging it so that I would never be able to take you for granted.
"Yes," I knew I'd have you even when they said that I had to spend most of my pregnancy bed-ridden. So I gorged down Duvadillan and tried not to move.
"Yes," I insisted on keeping you even though tests indicated Down Syndrome. I even remember writing you a letter, pledging that no test would ever influence my love for you. A letter addressed to you, but for me.
"Yes," I said, even when Daddy said
And you were born perfect because you, too, said "yes" to life itself. That's why we called you Zoe - the Greek word for LIFE. It's a name you earnt.
Love you always,
PS The party was great with lots of cake, music, balloons and the pitter-patter of little feet...