It's strange, really.
At one breath, I'm not interested in being a mom. At the other? I can't wait to meet my daughter.
To see her smile and her hear laugh. To smell her and cuddle my nose into her neck.
The latter is especially true now. Now that names like Gabby Douglas and Simone Biles and Simone Manuel are household names.
I look at all the #blackgirlmagic and I smile and I daydream. I think, 'basketball is a fine sport, but it's not the only sport'. I wonder: My little girl may be the first too, like the Simones and the Mon'es and the Mistys and the Serenas. She won't be the next Michael Jordan or Michael Phelps, but she will be the first... Her.
Yes, being the first is exhausting -- especially when you're permanently clothed in black and naps. But being the first is also something else too... Something beyond words, something... Godly. Yeah, Divine. Ordered. Orchestrated. That is, unrelenting, unashamed, unavoidable...
Who might my mini me be? Well. Anyone. She will be a storm of anyone she wants to be. And she will be so beautiful, this world will cower at her love.