“The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new.” Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh
My Baby Boy,
This day, almost a year ago, I was awaiting the birth I didn’t want, for the child I desperately did. Like many things in life, it didn’t go quite to plan. Like many things in motherhood, it required more courage than I’d expected.
But we did it. And amidst the beautiful madness there you were – absolutely perfectly… sticky. And ours. You opened your sleepy eyes and looked at me, and you owned that room, baby boy. You owned us.
My hand shook as I shielded you from the harsh light. I’d wanted dim light and a blissful water birth, I’d wanted gentle and empowering. I’d wanted peaceful and natural and perfect. But you were so beautiful that I didn’t care about what wasn’t. I didn’t care about the people bustling around the theatre, or the tugging at my tummy.
And that made it a different kind of perfect. A different kind of empowering.
You were born that day, but you weren’t the only one.
A mother was born, a mother that had never existed before. A mother of one had been in her place, but you birthed a mother of two.
This mother had only ever existed in the other mothers dreams, in her plans, in her hopes. Oh she had hoped. And there she was, bursting with newness and joy, seeing things differently, as you saw them for the first time.
A father was born, a stronger one than before. One who had tapped into all his strength to sit beside his wife and tell her everything was ok with a look. A father of two was born that day, and that courage made him bigger – big enough to love you both, to guide you both, to be a man that you would be so proud to call your Dad.
And at home with Grandma, waiting for a phonecall, was a small boy who had spent three and a half years as an only child. He loved the idea of you with all his little heart. You took the word ‘brother’ and made it mean something to him. He wore it so proudly for you. You didn’t wake when he came to visit you that first time, and I’m not surprised. Hearing his voice through sleep was probably a lot like hearing it through my belly, familiar as a hearbeat, comforting as the lullabies he sung my bump every single day.
A big brother was born that day, and you changed his world.
You see baby boy: when you were born, a family was born. It wasn’t just changed, it was absolutely turned on its head and recreated – because you deserved nothing less.
And when we gazed at you those first days and fell so deeply in love with you we fell in love with each other more too. Your stickiness stuck us together.
This past year has been a blur of tiredness, cuddles, laughter, tears and beautiful firsts. My heart has burst with joy for you every time I see your eyes light up at a new discovery. I have loved in ways I never knew as I watched my boys look at each other like they were looking at their own personal superheroes.
On Sunday I’m going to wish you happy birthday, baby boy. And I’m going to wish us a happy birthday too. Our family – one year old. That was the gift that you gave us that day for the first time, and that we are going to keep on giving eachother every day.
I hope you like your present little one. Your presence is ours.
Happy Birthday to us xx
Copyright Nirvana Dawson 2012