27 May 2012

Movin' on.

Tonight is the last night.  Tomorrow we move to a lovely home, where you will have the biggest yard to play in and woods to frolic and explore with the dog. Where you will have a huge room to play, and live in, conspire with your friends in.  And while I cannot wait until we’re finally there, I find myself a teeny bit sad about leaving this place—your first home.

When I put you to bed tonight, we sat together in the rocker, and sang our silly songs. I remembered a baby just two years ago that I nursed every few hours in those early days, sitting in the same rocker, trying not to fall asleep and counting the minutes until I could go back to bed, all the while marveling at your perfect little face, your perfect little self.I remembered rocking you, listening to our favorite lullaby cd, and me, in those early postpartum days, crying every time because I couldn't believe you were here, with me, after waiting for you for so long. 

It was in this room that you took your first naps, learned to sleep so well from month 1 in your crib, and where we read our stories.  It was in this room, this tiny closet of a room, that we cuddled and were silly, or where I comforted you when you were upset and you just wanted to be held.  It was in this room that I watched you sleep, serene and cherubic, in your sweet little zipper gowns, arms flat back on either side. It was in this room that I watched you pull yourself up in your crib for the first time; where you talk to your stuffies, and make all sorts of plans for the days ahead. It was in this room that I’ve changed no less than a zillion diapers. 

Yet I know you’ll love our new home.  You’ve been there so much already—you’ve staked out your space.  But, no matter how much we can’t wait to leave this place, it will always be your first home.  Where you learned to crawl and took your first steps.  Where you danced to music and went running down the hall, playing peekaboo around the corner.  Where you took your first bath.  Where you went for your first walk with Gabby. Where you had your first play dates. 

My goal tomorrow is to have yours be the room that is the last one we move and the first one we set up.  I want you to go to bed tomorrow night with the same sense of security and safety that you’ve always had, knowing that I’ll be just right down the hall. You’re growing up, and I know you’ll do just fine.  But you're still just little.  And change is hard.

 I know your long term memory has yet to even develop, so you may never even remember this place.  But I’ll remember.  And I’ll show you pictures.  Because, we’re movin’ on.  

Exploring the new place.  Good for somersaults.

03 May 2012

On the Night You Were Born.

…Ok so you were born at 2:08pm, but it took just about two nights for you to get here, so…
This title, of course, refers to the beloved book by Nancy Tillman.  On the eve of your big day, my sweet Boo, I reflect on the happenings leading up to your impending and miraculous arrival.  For some reason, I neglected to do this last year. I blame it on the total emotional reality that I now had a one year old. Better late than never.

On the week you were born…
…you were such a good listener. My plan was to work until the very end, Friday, 30 April, Daddy’s birthday.  You were due 1 May.  And I did.  I remember someone telling me that they hoped I’d have the weekend to relax.  As much as I wanted to meet you, I kinda hoped that too.

On the week you were born…
…you let me have that weekend.  I remember taking Gabby for a walk around the neighborhood on Saturday because I needed something to do. My bag was already packed. I was ready.  I do remember getting half way around the neighborhood circle thinking all I wanted to do was just keel over on the grass because I didn’t think I could make it back home.  Wouldn’t that have made for an interesting headline.

On the week you were born…
…on Sunday, Daddy and I decided to have one last meal out because who knew when we’d do so again? We drove to beautiful Bailey Island for some delish seafood at Cook’s Lobster House. Daddy was silly trying on the lobstah hats. The hostess, eyeing my ginormous belly, asked when I was due.  “Yesterday!” I exclaimed proudly. She politely smiled with a nervous laugh.  Maybe visions of delivering amongst mussel shells and lobster tanks were swimming in her head.  Here I am, commemorating the event.

On the night you were born…
…I felt fine.  I had been reading so much about how to anticipate and detect signs of looming labor.  Nope, I felt normal.  I took the dog out, went to bed around 10pm.  Nothing unusual.  At 12:15am, I wet the bed. Since that never happened before I had to assume it was time.  I went to the downstairs bathroom.  To this day, I will never understand why, when clearly that was my water breaking, I chose to go down a flight of stairs when there’s a perfectly good bathroom next to our bedroom, How was I, without screaming my lungs out, going to make it back upstairs to awaken Daddy and let him know “it’s time”? I didn’t scream my lungs out, and somehow made it back upstairs.  

On the night you were born…
…Gabby was confused and could sense our urgency and panic. Why were we up and awake in the middle of the night? I kissed her goodbye, crying softly, knowing that everything was about to change and that the next time we’d see her, a new little life would be there to greet her and be greeted.

On the night you were born…
…it felt like the longest ride in eternity to get to the, really only 12 minutes away, hospital.  I kinda wished we’d made arrangements with our neighbor, the cop, to get a police escort when the time had come. Ah well, hindsight.

On the night you were born…
…it was a lonnnng wait for your arrival.  It’s hard to explain but when you’re waiting for something to happen and it seems like nothing is, and your body feels like it’s being crushed under 5 Mack trucks…well, it’s just a little bit tortuous.  Monday came and went. 

On the day you were born…
...suddenly it was Tuesday. We waited all morning for things to progress. Did you not want to meet me?  I wanted so badly to meet you.  And then finally, there you were…38 hours later, Herculean feats of strength by yours truly…and Daddy updating the Facebook family on our progress.

On the day you were born…
…I watched Daddy absolutely fall in love with you.

On the day you were born…
Grammie and Grampie held their first grandson.

On the day you were born…
…I counted your fingers, I counted your toes.  I tickled your belly and kissed your nose. I recognized you the moment you arrived.  I don’t think I’d realized it until then, but I’d been waiting for you my whole life.  

On the day you were born…
…I instantly knew I’d love you forever.  Your birthday falls just one day before mine.  You were the most precious of gifts.  You joined our family…the only boy amongst so many girls.  You are our prince.

Happy 2nd Birthday, my sweet boy! 

"On the night you were born,
the moon shone with such wonder
that the stars peeked in
to see you
and the night wind whispered,
'Life will never be the same.'
Because there had never been
anyone like you...
ever in the world."