Our five-year-old turns six tomorrow. The day she was born was a sunny Saturday. I was just hanging out, watching an early morning movie channel showing of "The Lady Eve", when the first telltale twinges of contractions began. I got far enough to catch the classic Barbara Stanwyck line: "I need him like the ax needs the turkey!" but had to leave for the hospital before the movie finished. Labor was prolonged, but not painful. Veronica joined us a little after five in the afternoon, in the same hospital room in which her older brother had been born two years before. From the window, you could see the cherry blossoms.
My memories of that last pregnancy and birth are crystalline. From the beginning, I knew that it was likely that our third child (to this no-spring-chicken mother) would be my last. I lived those nine months with the hyperconsciousness that it would be the last time that I would live that experience. Am I over it yet? Not nearly.
So here she is, almost six years later, a being ineffably herself. We look at her, and my husband says, "She's got your brain." And I say, "And she's got your personality." And then we say, in unison, "Thank goodness...no offense, honey."
Earlier this week, I was helping her pull a tight-necked sweater over her head, saying the ritual chant I've chanted for each of my children (Where's Veronica? Where can she...be?). As her head poked through, she was matter-of-fact. Don't say that any more, Mom. 'Cause that's kind of a baby thing. Of course, I knew that day was coming. I just didn't think it would be so soon.
i am not looking forward to that sort of heartbreak when I have children, but i am hoping all of the rest makes up for it!
Posted by: avril | February 27, 2005 at 08:00 AM
Avril, the bigger the blessing, the bigger the ache...I wouldn't trade it (and I do mean any of it) for anything.
Posted by: Chan S. | March 03, 2005 at 12:52 PM