A letter to the one who made me a mother:
You really didn’t want to join us on the outside, Little Bird. I was two weeks past due, three days of failed induction in, and you were still showing no signs of joining us! Heck kid, you almost were a December baby, but at seven minutes to nine on November 30th, you finally joined us thanks to C Section. The doctor who delivered you said, “look her flapping those arms! it’s like she’s trying to fly”, and it was then that I knew you would be my Little Bird.
That first night you were so chill; A calm before one hell of a storm. The nurses laughed and said, “wait until night two!” like the joke was on us. I look back at this now and think it was pretty cruel to do that to unsuspecting, first-time parents. Jerks. And perhaps you were pissed that we evicted you before you were ready (After 56 hours of labour, you deserved it kiddo!), but you sure squawked! I’ve never seen your poor Daddy so deliriously tired. I sang you Elton John’s “Someone Saved My Life Tonight” with you tucked in next to me to get you to sleep.
“Sweet freedom whispered in my ear,
‘You’re a butterfly,
And butterflies are free to fly’“
On December 3rd, we finally brought you home. November had been mild weather-wise when we first came in and the nurses were talking about Black Friday deals. When we left, there were trees and garland and Christmas music playing. There was frost on the ground and I bundled you up in the blanket that I was brought home from the hospital in as a baby. It was made by your Great Grandma, whom you were given a middle name after. She sure would have loved you.
As we walked out of the hospital with you, I turned to your Dad and burst into tears. I was so exhausted and excited to be leaving, and yet absolutely freaking terrified! We drove away from the hospital and Phil Collins “Take Me Home” played on the radio; We chuckled over how fitting it was and hummed along.
It took us a while to get into a rhythm, and you most definitely made us work for it. In those first few months, I questioned if you even liked me at times. Some days I wondered how I got through it, other than to celebrate the small victories. We hit our stride though, and you started to flourish. You flapped your wings and grew into the most charismatic, independent, free-flying, happy Little Bird.
Your first year has been the longest and shortest year of my life. You push me to be a better mother constantly. When you stand and walk, solo, fists waving in the air because you are so excited to be on the move, I remind myself that I get to spend the rest of my life witnessing firsts for you. What an incredible, special gift to be given.