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July 04, 2005

born on the fourth of July

This is one of the few mornings of the year when there aren't any traffic sounds from I-95. The sun wasn't up yet when I went outside, and it was cool--or cooler--and all the birds were singing, and geese were flying, honking, overhead.

Ten years ago I found myself standing on our deck at 4 a.m., restless, staring into the back yard and wondering what to do with myself. For the first time in this pregnancy I had woken up early. The rest of the house was asleep: Moo, my sister, my brother-in-law, the dog. The Husband was in Minnesota at a conference. Herself wasn't due for six weeks.

The night before we had a cookout and I let myself have a glass of good red wine with dinner and a candy bar, dark chocolate, for dessert. I was craving chocolate.

I don't remember any more how the rest of the day went until I went into labor at Pier One. My brother-in-law drove me to the hospital; all the nurses said "Oh, you aren't having that baby today"; and two hours later she was born. She spent two weeks in intensive care and when she came home she weighed five pounds.

Today she is ten years old. She's upstairs sleeping in my bed; the last thing she said to me last night was "I love you so much, Mom." And she does. I never saw a child so willing to love everybody; she loves everybody, right down to the turtle in the Tupperware bowl in my bathroom. Most of the time I'm not exactly sure where she came from; she seems to be made up completely of emotion, and I'm afraid for her, so wanting to love and be loved. Most of the time I feel that I've spent the last ten years letting her down. But I guess that's a topic for another day.

Today will be a good day. Happy birthday, little gal. I love you back.

Posted by JudyLa at 06:00 AM | Comments (0)