v-bac to this again.

"Mommy, did I come out of your private area?" She asked, casually.

For me this will never be a casual question. And I have resolved to never lie to her. This is what I said:

No, Clairegirl. You came out of my tummy.

"But Everett came out of your private area..." She wondered aloud.

And you, sweetgirl, came out of my tummy. I told her about how we'd hoped she'd come on Easter. How I had a sweet little pink dress just in case. I told her about walking at the park with The Dada, and all of the things we tried to get her to come out. I told her about how she just wouldn't budge. Then I told her about the meconium. She wanted to hear that part again and again.

"Were my toenails brown when I came out too?" She asked.

Nope. Just your fingernails.

"Tell me the part about the poop again, Mommy."

So I did. And I told her about how long it took to get her out and that the midwife was starting to worry about her because of the poop. I told her that we decided together that the most important thing was that she would be born safe. I told her that we only cared about meeting her. I told her that they gave me good medicine so that it wouldn't hurt when they cut into my stomach. She seemed concerned for a moment then. She asked questions about how they got her out. I explained the cutting. I told her she could see the scar.

"You mean in a picture, Mommy?"

No honey, on my tummy. There's a line where you were cut out of me.

"Oh."

And Clairegirl, you were the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. We only cared about seeing you born safe. Three years later, I can say that and mean it. As frustrating as that day was, I have no regrets. That is the magic of this girl.