When I was growing up labor day meant heading back to school. It was holiday with out any meaning. I had heard that after labor day you were not suppose to wear white. In 1994 the labor day changed for me. I was pregnant with my daughter. The ultra sound technician had told me and my husband she didn’t have any he parts. I spend most of labor day in the hospital in labor. At 9:51 that night I delivered a healthy baby girl. It was miraculous I felt God’s presence in the room. I thanked Him for my little girl.
I can’t say I pray for my daughter often enough, nor am I thankful enough for her. Despite all the mistakes I have had like being financially irresponsible, being selfish and depressed. She still loves me. She still inspires me and still believes in me. I know a lot of women have children because they want to have somebody to love them. I can’t tell you why I wanted children.
During my adolescence I thought I want to be able to help another teenager transition through storm and stress easier then I did. I thought God wanted me to mentor a young woman, I just didn’t realize she would be my daughter.
Labor day is reminded for me of my oldest daughter birthday. It’s also a reminded of my short comings as parent.