Bowie’s third trip around the sun is complete. He will never be 2 again. I feel wonder, sadness, and joy as he grows.
Here he was just moments after his birth. How can that little soft thing (8.5 pounds, 22.5 inches) be my same little man?
Last night after escargot, crab claws, artichoke and roasted carrots (menu created by Bowie) we had cake and watched the video of Bowie’s birth. My friend Kendal had been with us and wonderfully was able to capture that brief, intense time for us. We have watched it every year. This was the first time that Bowie was able to really respond to it. He was obviously excited, asking questions, and covering his smiling, amazed mouth in rare self consciousness. I suspect that there will be a time when he chooses not to watch this with us. But I hope that he will carry this knowledge about life and love around until he does wish to see it again. I know I must have asked my mother 100s of questions about being born. This morning Bowie woke up saying, “I was born in this house.” Oh my. I can never move, can I? This feels like a sacred place to me.
I remember behind me, the door to our backyard open. The sun setting. My being growling and groaning and moaning, “Mama!” “Come!” “Push!” in the dark, quiet ring of family and friends.
My voice immediately soft and sweet as I welcomed Bowie to my breasts. His little bottom in my hand, I felt before I saw that he was the boy I had been expecting. I had never doubted my instincts but it was still a wonderful surprise.
Our dog, Tuba, right there with her little nose peering over the edge of the tub to witness this family event.
My mother, on her birthday, cutting the umbilical cord after it stopped pulsing.
Chris, who had never carried a baby before, effortlessly cradling Bowie with one arm, a born father.
My sister feeding me homemade lasagna once we moved to our bedroom. Her daughter, just one, on our bed petting her new cousin.
The doula standing outside the shower, handing me shampoo and comb, wrapping me in a towel. I felt so cared for. Hours later, after the examinations and they started up the laundry, 1am, I walked them to the door swaying with my swaddled son in my arms, to say goodbye. They smiled and said it looked like we had always been a family, like this is always the way it had been. Angels. They are angels.
Chris and I giggling as we were left alone in our home. Life forever changed.
Awesome. Not in the 80s way, but in the truest sense of the word. Completely awesome. And it has been ever since…