I Just Want You to Know_ Letters to My Kids on Love, Faith, and Family - Kate Gosselin [29]
I once again find myself in an uncertain financial situation now that I feel the burden of providing for eight kids and carry the weight of such a large responsibility on my shoulders.
Looking back over that time in my life when I was dependent on others to provide for our basic needs gives me the confidence to believe that no matter what, we will be taken care of. There’s a verse in the Bible that talks about how God cares for even sparrows, and he takes care of us that much more. He has never let us down. I can give my worries over to God as he has shown himself faithful to us time and again.
My family weathered the season when our financial situation was a struggle, and we made it through. Our needs were always met. I know we’ll get through the storm again because something, somehow will work out. It always does. Today, the mortgage is paid, food is on our table, the kids are in a school they love. I’ve learned to work as hard as I can while being grateful for the provisions and blessings of today, and I chose not worry about the particulars tomorrow will bring.
Letter to Hannah
Dear Hannah,
Oh sweet, sweet girl, I absolutely enjoy being your mommy! I remember the moment your name came to me. I was on the sofa in the family room of our Dauphin Avenue house, the first place you called home. I was resting and thinking of names—the two things that occupied almost every moment of my time while you were in my belly.
There was a girl in our church named Hannah. She was around my age and very sweet. I found myself thinking about her—and then her name—and I realized I loved the name Hannah…with an h on the end, of course! So when Daddy came home from work that day, I asked him what he thought about the name on my mind, and he emphatically agreed. So Hannah (or Baby B until birth) you were! Later, in keeping with Alexis’s middle name, you became Hannah Joy. You have been a complete joy to raise, so your name fits you nicely.
You were born on a Monday, May 10, 2004, the day after Mother’s Day. By the Friday after you were born, during one of my frequent visits to the neonatal nursery, your nurse, Sandi, asked if I would like to hold you. This was extremely exciting to me because I had not yet been able to hold any of you. So, Hannah, the nurse wrapped you in what seemed like nine million blankets and put a teeny pink hat on your doll-sized head and placed all two pounds eleven ounces of you in my anxiously outstretched arms.
I was completely unable to control the stream of tears that rolled down my cheeks as I cradled you closely for the first time since you left your spot right below my heart. I kissed you repeatedly, but your forehead was so small that each kiss nearly covered your entire face. You didn’t seem to mind as you slept peacefully in your Eskimo wrap.
Every miniature part of you was exactly perfect. I almost couldn’t resist the urge I felt at that moment to get up and run straight home with you in my arms—except I knew that you needed to grow and gain strength before that was possible, so you needed to stay in your protective “bubble,” your incubator.
I have enjoyed watching you grow, Hannah. Almost immediately you showed maturity beyond your years. You were barely walking when you assigned yourself the task, each morning as I dressed all of you, of collecting all six pairs of pajamas and depositing them in the hamper that loomed much higher than your head. Once, when you were two and a half, you cheerily announced that you would “go downstairs and watch the kids.” I laughed and thanked you as I reminded you “the kids” were the same age as you.
You have always taken pride in your independence and your ability to help me. You have always seemed to know when I have been especially tired, and it is then that you offer extra help. I don’t think you know how much I have appreciated that.
Early on, you developed a love