Skip to main content

A gift for my son

  It's something really...that moment of clarity. For the past 36 hours, I have been waiting for that moment. The one that makes it all just--fall in line. 
  I thought it would be the moment I was wheeled into the OR for my scheduled c-section. It wasn't. I thought it would be the moment I got to see if my daughter actually had hair. It wasn't. I thought it would be the moment I got to smell her breath to engulf the smell of life as I did her brother. It wasn't. 
  I just couldn't find it. And yet, for the last 36 hours all the wonderful little things I got to experience as I held my new little baby were leading up to the one I was missing. 
  You see...since I found out I was pregnant, I have been carrying around this deep-rooted sense of disinterest. Did I really want another baby? Did I actually want this? I had the perfect son who really had all the love I could hold. How would I ever love someone else as much as I loved him? 
  I didn't think it possible. Perhaps, I still don't. We will see. ;-) In fact, it took me several months before I looked at my son and thought, "Damn! I love you." I felt true obligation for caring for him...not love. 
  Maybe this one is a little different? I didn't play around with the first time mom ideals I once carried. I was/am a little more aware about a lot of things...mostly about my personal well-being and how I plan to not bury myself in guilt or "I have-tos." It almost did me in the last time, and I wasn't going to let it this time around. 
  But, how was I going to justify this new little one when Owen was still little? I wasn't done letting him be my baby and here I was with another baby. Dumb? Maybe. Real? Yes! 
  So, where was my moment? It only took 36 hours and the reality of a little blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy coming to meet his gift for the first time. I have shoved this picture out of my head for so long because I wasn't sure I wanted it to happen, but as I held Claire rocking her, waiting for Owen to show up in his little blue shirt, and his "I'm a Big brother" pin, carrying the grey giraffe he got Claire...I felt the moment stream down my face--and continue to stream in all of its reality.
  I was about to present my son with his most precious gift. I was about to recreate the moment my parents presented me to Andy. Justin was about to recreate the moment his parents presented Crystal to him. The big, proud brother meets his precious little sister. Although Owen might not fully understand, I did. Justin did. We all did. That moment was a grand one. 
  It all made sense. It all came crashing wonderfully together when that little boy walked in the room, looked at his gift and said, "baby...aww" and bent down to give her a kiss.
  Claire Grey Garner came wonderfully crashing into our lives yesterday afternoon. I am honored to be her mother and am excited to see the love I have for Owen bend and shape around another beautiful little soul. 
  Thank you for all of the well-wishes, texts, calls and prayers. It means so much!







Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Tiger must stay in your backpack...

   I'm not that parent. The one who gloats too much, and shows off all the pictures. The parent who relays every detail of their kid to let others know how incredible I think they are. Perhaps it is a flaw. Who knows. And I also pride myself in not being a helicopter parent. I teach and let go. I discipline and let go.    And I thought I would be ready for this: first day of Pre-K. I have been very positive and uplifting and have wanted my son to be extra ready to go to school. We have talked about it for months! I am ready... Or so I thought.  This morning, as white boy was leaving to take them to daycare, he said to Owen, "You can't take Tiger to school tomorrow or he will have to stay in your backpack, so do you want to take him to daycare today?" I thought little of it, but as Owen threw him down on the ground and turned to head out the door, my throat hitched. "Are you sure you don't want to take him today?" He said no. It was a sense of finality.  ...
Post a Comment
Read more

60 years ago is not the 1940s

  When you are born, you are lucky to get one day a year to celebrate just you. Well, you and all the others born on that day. When you become a mother or father, you get another day for just you. Sometimes those days come when you are not ready, and some come when you wish they wouldn't.   Today, 60 years ago, my mother was born. A date that means littler to most people I know than to her or me. As we age, and my mother is no different, our birthdays become just another cycle of the rising of the sun and a following of the moon. Nothing to make a big to do of.   My mother enjoys subtly. She can be dramatic but embraces the subtle acknowledgement of herself. She has ALWAYS placed herself second and counted the accolades of her children as if they were her own. That was one thing my mother NEVER lacked: humility. Which made me often sad she didn't get more than 2 days a year commemorating her.   Mom, I know I've come short. I know that I have openly and often faile...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Sacred Requiem

  He handed me the hymnal and asked me if I was ready...if I could do this. To be honest, I had no idea what I was doing. I had never planned a funeral, and even if I had imagined planning one it sure wasn't this early in life and it sure wasn't for my only brother, my only sibling. At 25, I felt like a little child getting left behind in a sea of strangers. I was terrified.   2 days prior, my heart stopped beating. 2 short days before this, my peaceful world collided with the dark. And now I had to prepare for the world to say goodbye to greatness. The tree fell in the woods and the world shook with its sudden end. And we, as the collective, needed to imagine that very tree as the beautiful piece of woodwork it now was and bow to it's new exulted shape.   I wasn't sure how to plan a requiem. But, it had been placed in my hands and I wanted to give him the best I could. He deserved it. He deserved life...to live...to breathe still and chase every dream he thought into...
Post a Comment
Read more