Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Not a baby, but still my baby

Six years ago at this time I was in the hospital with pitocin dripping into my veins, nervous about what was to come in order to bring my first child into the world. I had no idea if the child I'd flippantly nicknamed Squirmy would be a boy or a girl. The men in Craig's family only make boys, but in truth I hoped for a girl.

Then there was the flurry of activity and the need to get the baby out; to stop the contractions that I couldn't even feel but were taxing my baby's tiny body with each squeeze. "The baby's not tolerating the contractions," they said and I was whisked away to have the baby taken from me in a way that I hadn't counted on.

Then there was no worrying about whether it was a boy or a girl. I just wanted that baby to BE.

And there she was, blue and purple and needing oxygen, but otherwise perfect. In moments she was pink and bundled and warm, her little face puckered with the indignity of her unceremonious entrance. She was supposed to have arrived 7 days ago, but she knew. She wasn't coming out on her own because she needed help. Her eyes were wise and knowing as she looked upon the face of the woman who'd carried her and nourished her for 41 weeks. She couldn't have made it on her own.

She knew when I didn't, that she'd need help. I think that's the first and only time she's really admitted she couldn't do something on her own.

She's loving and independent and stubborn. She'll try anything at least twice as long as it's not green and a vegetable (although frozen peas straight from the freezer are acceptable).

As a toddler she would find the mom with the best snack and plant herself on that mom's lap, enchanting the mom with a dazzling smile and impeccable manners. "Pweese?" she'd ask, throwing in the sign language to drive her sincerity home.
She brings tears to my eyes regularly, not just when she's not listening to a word I say.

"Mom, I love just laying here on your bed together. Just us girls."

"This is nice, just cuddling."

"When I grow up, I want to be a mommy, just like you."

"I love you so much."

She assumes everyone is her friend, and for the most part she's right. I heard at least 40 "hi M"s when I went to help in her classroom, and those were from kids in the other classes. She'll share anything with anyone, even if it means she won't have one. "Do you want a turn?" She'll make sure there's a way that everyone can play, together.

She's my first baby, my Baby Doll. The Divine Miss M. Now 6. Not a baby, yet still my baby.

Happy Birthday M.
When I was One,
I had just begun.
When I was Two,
I was nearly new.
When I was Three
I was hardly me.
When I was Four,
I was not much more.
When I was Five,
I was just alive.
But now I am Six,
I'm as clever as clever,
So I think I'll be six now for ever and ever.

-A. A. Milne

8 people like me!:

chelle said...

awww what a sweet post!!!! Happy birthday to your girl!!!! May all her birthday wishes come true this year!

Chels said...

Wow two milestones to celebrate in one day, Ms. D turning 2 mo. old, and Miss M's Birthday!
Happy Birthday M!

Beck said...

Happy birthday, pretty girl!
And I had a c-section with my first, too!

Anonymous said...

Happy Birthday!!! ......Lady M.

Anonymous said...

Happy Birthday!!! Now your 6!! Your pretty darn cute, too. Amma

Damselfly said...

Here's to six, forever and ever. :) And happy birthday to you on becoming a mama.

Mandy said...

Wow, what a wonderful day!! Hope you and Miss M had a great one. Your post was so beautiful, it made me want to cry.

soccer mom in denial said...

I just LOVE birthday posts. And I love that A. A. Milne poem. I now cry whenever I read it. So I'm going off to find a tissue...

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