Thursday, June 14, 2007

To Iain on his first Birthday

(Well, his birthday was yesterday, and I wrote this post yesterday morning...)

Dear Iain, who has me in tears before I've even had my coffee...

A year of you has taught me just how quickly a year passes. Time continually speeds up as we get older, and the realization that it has been an entire year since I was in labour and then gave birth to you is shocking to me. If a year goes by as fast as this past one did, and we only have so many years, that makes life awfully damn short, doesn’t it? Oh, God. But for you, for now, a year will feel like forever. This is the sweet time, the carefree time. I don’t envy you this time – I’m just delighted to know you’re living in it.

To think of the other babies we could have conceived. Thousands of possibilities! And you, wonderful you, were what they were handing out that day two Septembers ago when I informed my husband that I was feeling lucky. How could we have a better baby? What a happy accident, a miracle, a perfect idontevenknowwhat that it was you, wonderful you. Whatever I choose to say about you or write about you – I doubt it could ever be enough.

When I was pregnant, I can’t say I felt very connected to you. I wrote about that sadly. Now that you’re here, I get it. If there’s another baby for us, I’ll feel much more connected to the life inside me. Oh, I do get it now.

You are pure love. How could the world have been blessed with you for only a year? How could something so precious have not been here all along? You are so very you, luminous, with a strong personality and all the sweet charm in the world. I have spent hours just staring at you, adoring your face. I want you to live forever, and can’t bear the other thought.

Happy birthday, my precious, precious boy. It is my great, terrifying honour to love you, nourish you, protect you, and fall asleep next to you every night.


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