Sunday, January 15, 2012

Two Down

Dear Mirabel,

I think a child's birthday is a chance for its mother to enter a magical and nostalgic time warp. Is there another event so dramatically impactful? Suddenly I find myself awake at 4:30 in the morning this January 15th, and the vivid images of the agony of bringing YOU into this world surround me. My January 15th will forever be assoiciated with the long hospital corridors, the groans echoing off of the bathub walls, the shock of hearing "It's a girl!", the surreality of not being able to hold you once your umbilical ties to your comfortable realm were broken.

My midwife said at the time that babies with Down syndrome often have a longer time figuring the way "out." You decided to flip breach once I was already in labor, effectively tossing my ideas of laboring at home, while watching Golden Girls reruns, while bouncing on the stability ball, out the window.

I was immediately and unexpectedly admitted to the hospital at noon on January 14th, where the doctor on call was able to successfully perform a version and turn you, but as a result my labor had to be stopped. So while the stability ball sat unused in the living room and Rose, Blanche, and Dorothy waited expectantly in the DVD player, I walked the halls with your father, desperately trying to get labor started again. At 5 pm, my acupuncturist came in and got things going a bit, but not enough, and by 10 pm I finally consented to Pitocin. It was so maddening for me to have been in natural labor all morning, wandering through Kohl's to pick out an overnight backpack for Luciya while the secret thrill of the first contractions made me pause in the aisles once or twice, to look forward to spending the bleak winter day waiting for the right time to welcome you, and to then have to spend the actual day indoors, unsure, and no longer in labor.

I helped pull you into the world at 4:53 a.m.

Then everything began, and at the same time everything stopped.

The nurses, the lights, the midwife, the explanations, the white buzz in my ears, the wash of serenity, the ache, the buzzing again, the nurse coming in to punch me in the uterus, the look on John's face, the need to sleep, the need to hold my baby, the rush, and the sink, and oh God why does that nurse have to come punch me in the uterus again?!

Fast forward.

And you're two years old today.

While I can't imagine that today's events will plant themselves with such resolve in my mommy brain, I can tell you that today you were celebrated by a dozen people who love you.

There was cake.

And there were gifts.

And there were songs and toasts.

We were celebrating a remarkable two-year-old, whose short life has already inspired us all to appreciate LIFE in a way we can all admit we did not know before you.

We celebrated your mouthful of teeth, your ability (as of last week!) to crawl on all fours, the signs you can use - Thank You, More, Please, Eat, Mommy, Daddy. We delighted in the way you smashed fistfuls of cake into your face.

We held you and praised you. Inwardly and for all to see.

January 15th, 2010 was a new moon. According to astrology,

"When the Moon is new, the Sun and Moon are aligned in the same sign, and a powerful energy portal is opened. New Moons are a great time to set intentions for things you'd like to create, develop, cultivate, make manifest. ... What matters is that you're committing yourself to your vision, and open to receiving guidance, healing, support from Spirit. ...

The new Moon has a more inward feel, has a void or empty quality, and therefore can be frightening to those not comfortable with uncertainty. Can you learn to trust the dark? It's the moment when the old passes away and the new is not yet here. That's why it's a powerful time for sending out your prayer, wishes, desires to the Universe."

There was certainly a lot of praying, wishing, and desiring that happened that night. You stayed in the hospital for two weeks and came home to us on the full moon. And as we all know, "Full Moons are for taking action and celebrating the fruit of your efforts." Our prayers and wishes and desires are coming true in you, Sweet Mirabel.


I love you, Mirabel!



Meagan + Josh said...

I'm crying now... thank you for that! ;)

Mandy said...

Such a beautiful way to explain the unconditional love a Mother will always have for her children. Very well done Emily...I couldn't stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks. :)