Last year today was a ride, literally a "trip", like none I'd ever had. Having a baby is both so mundane and transcendent. Earthy and spiritual. We were each of us born, a daily fact of life. Yet each birth has as part of it an ineffable truth - the start of a new person - that is simply bigger than anything we know in daily life.
A year later, I recall WeeC's birth gently, tentatively. It's not a memory I'm comfortable reliving. It's not like that delicious first kiss or the long gaze you held on your wedding day. Some memories you wish you could recreate, practically wallow in them, they feel so good. WeeC's birth didn't get that.
Instead, I spent hours before the birth being frustrated and uncomfortable, treated like a pregnant slab of meat by the surgery prep nurses, and finally panicking through the epidural. Panic. I can admit that now. I'm not keen on needles (few of us are) and I'm doubly less happy when a terse nurse comes up briskly and tries to matter-of-fact stab me in the spinal cord without a by-your-leave. You too, my friend, will jump out of your skin. Two nurses grabbed my arms to hold me forcibly still, telling me to just relax. "Just." After a third failed attempt, I finally got them all to back off and let me breathe to relax. They were in a hurry though, so I didn't get much respite. Finally the needle was in.
And it failed to "take." A vague way of saying I didn't have pain killer. Anyone else out there have a c-section without pain killers?
With that I retreat from the memory. I spelled a bit more of the story out last year.
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A year buzzes by.
No one gets enough sleep,
But we make it through.
And WeeC gets bigger, mobile, eats better, starts solids,
blossoms into a person, unfolding who she is, leaving the baby behind for the toddler,
until we find this little lady greeting us this morning.
She climbs the stool and tries to fill her own water bottle. She coos to herself in the morning. She walks and walks and walks and walks and.... She's dealt with starting daycare like a champ. She's figured out straws and wants to feed herself, adamantly. She'll slap away things she does not like and is emphatic about what she wants. Fearless and creative, I've called her The Menace more than once. Still, what do I expect when she has her sister to model all the funnest (and unsafe) behaviors. Inside this little person is a woman who knows her own mind and isn't terribly concerned with your opinion. Real leadership potential here. Everyone step aside, WeeC is One.
happy birthday mama!
I didn't have the walk in the park, bloggy, earthy granola births either. But the results are just grand.
Posted by: oya baka mama | January 31, 2010 at 12:08 AM