I remember so much about the day he was born, so many small things. The way I tried to act normal as we walked around Blockbuster Video looking for something to help pass the long hours we were going to have to wait before we could go to the hospital. John, stop watch in hand, sitting across the room from me as we attempted to watch “American Beauty”. Him telling me it wasn’t time to call the doctor yet, because my contractions were not five minutes apart. They were ten minutes, and then eight minutes, and then twelve. Me finally looking him straight in the eye and saying, “I don’t care. Call him now.” The drive over to the hospital when I decided I was no longer on the fence. I wanted drugs. The impossibly long walk from the parking lot to the maternity ward during which I had to stop several times to lean against the wall. The nurses who teased us about “not getting too comfortable” when they saw we had dragged all of our stuff with us, because my doctor had told them I probably wouldn’t be staying. Their shock when Max was born twenty minutes later.
His perfect olive skin and long eyelashes. That little bundle wrapped up like a burrito in his bassinet that we stared at with wonder and apprehension. John sleeping on the chair in my room as our little family spent its’ first night together. How we were afraid to change him, to dress him, to bathe him. How when we brought him home he fit on my forearm with his head cupped in my hand. How he nuzzled under John’s chin.
So, how is it possible that ten years has passed? Max’s birthday was last week, and my helpless, tiny bundle is now a decade old. We still look at him with wonder and a little bit of apprehension. How many times have I said, “I hope we’re doing the right thing,” I can’t even guess. We’ve done our best, and we must have done some things right, because he is an incredible kid. He is kind and smart and funny. I know that I will blink my eyes and another decade will have slipped through my fingers. And my Beatles obsessed, Lego engineer of a son will be grown, ready to head out on his own. And I will look at him with wonder and more than a little bit of apprehension. And I will be grateful for so many small things.
Happy Birthday, Max. We all love you so much! (I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much. But, that is what I do best!)
Beautiful…
beautiful post Jen, it brought tears to my eyes!
Absolutely wonderful! Just amazing, Jenn <3
This is beautiful, wonderful portraits. Chances are when you look at him when he’s 20, you’ll see the ten year old is still there.
I remember when my little nephew was born and how easy you made it seem. Not to mention how amazing you looked after . Interesting how he is the mellow child! It was one of the most precious memories I will always keep close to my heart! Of course this means that I am also 10 years older!!!!!!!
Love ya,
Lainey