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21 years ago at this time I was in a drugged sleep because of the demerol I didn't want or need but got anyways. 21 years ago I had just given birth an hour and a half before. 21 years ago my journey into motherhood began. And now I have been a mother for half of my life. My beautiful, talented, creative, interesting daughter. I am so grateful to our journey together. She hates it when I write these mushy things. Or so she says. I don't know. Somewhere, deep down, I think she loves it. She loves to hear how much her mother loves her. How could I not? Isn't she adorable?
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