Of all the twelve months of the year, December has been always perfect for me. It is the month in which I was born and also the month which has brought a lot of good things into my life.
Among all those nice things, there is one that for over twenty years is placed in top of my December good things list: the birth of my daughter. So, I want this short story to be like a happy birthday present for her.
I’m that kind of woman who always wanted to be a mom. I always dreamt of having a girl, and I was lucky I could finally have one. I was the happiest woman on earth when the doctor told me the great news, and said that it would happen in December.
My life made a twist that very day. I began to feel I was very important, and that feeling was deeper as long as my belly grew bigger. It’s normal that pregnant women feel this way. These ideas have accompanied me ever since.
I don’t have to explain how I felt when my daughter was finally born. All the moments spent with her are very clear in my mind. I remember everything: the way I fed her, the lullabies I sang, and the stories I read or invented for her before she went to sleep. I remember the places I took her, and also telling her about some magic powder I had and blew on her when she didn’t want to go to bed. She believed all that fantasy, which was something wonderful, and which allowed her live a happy childhood.
I think I’ve done my best to make my daughter feel safe. And she has been a great kid in return. She has provided me with love and care, and with the confidence that she can move on in life beeing aware of what is the right thing to do. I’m very proud of her.