Love letter to my daughter (March 1985)

I was about to turn 23 when I drew and wrote this in my journal 26 years ago.  I was 4.5 months pregnant with my daughter.  I always referred to her as Felix.  It wasn’t until the moment she was born and I saw her, that I yelled out, ANNA!  I “recognized” her immediately.

March 1985

Dear Felix,

I don’t know how else to communicate with you… I want to talk to you, touch you, hold you.  I feel like I’m enclosed in a womb also.  Why else would I rather sit here with you, than to pick up the phone and call old friends?  Do I want them to share this experience with me?  Does pregnancy have to mean…

Drawing this has made me realize that it is not only you Felix, who is crouched in the fetal position in a warm and isolated environment.  I feel like I have drawn myself rather than my baby.  Then again you are me… Can you read my thoughts, Felix?

Why do I not have the energy to seek out other friends?  I guess my gestation period isn’t over yet.

Felix… I will always be your oasis of warmth, love, peace.

Birth will be a coming out for [me]… My desire to discover all that life has to offer will be revitalized.  Pregnancy is so incredible that the wonder over all the processes going on in my body overrides other interests.  Will the opening of the cervix set me “free” as it will set you free, Felix?  We are free already, but we must keep protected and warm.

… Is it possible for love to keep getting stronger and stronger?  Yes, it is.  “God natt, min ängel.”

PS.  Please be healthy.  I hope my selfish ways haven’t harmed you.  I saw death at the cancer clinic today [checkups after treatment].  You in my belly got me through it.  But I think I will cry now.

And thou shalt in thy daughter see,
This picture, once, resembled thee.
~Ambrose Philips

Also see Love Letter to My Son

4 Comments Add yours

  1. Joanna Harks says:

    this is amazing Kat…..thanks for sharing. Where did the name FELIX come from? lol xoxo

  2. Darcy Glip says:

    I’m a little weepy myself now ty for sharing.

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