Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Dizzying, magnificent and nothing like I expected

Almost exactly five years to the minute ago, my water broke and I looked at your father-to-be and I said, logically, "I think my water broke," and he said, calmly, "okay," and returned his attention to the computer screen before him. And then I said, in a tone a little more urgent, "no, babes, listen -- I think my water broke!" and he said, "oh!" and then I had his attention. It's something you should know about your dad. Sometimes when he's concentrating, it can be really hard to capture his attention. You're just like that.

We sort of knew but didn't quite know: in about nine hours, we'd be parents.

I went to take a shower because that seemed like a good idea and then we packed a hospital bag. I was 40 weeks and 5 days pregnant with you. Friends had been asking for weeks, "have you packed a hospital bag?" I'd taken to saying yes, just to let the nagging cease. I had a perfect vision of a hospital bag, intricately articulated. But we hadn't packed one. It seems like something you should know about us, your dad and I. We're great dreamers and sometimes we'd rather spend more time laying on the couch, legs entwined, and dream deeper, than get up and do anything practical like pack a hospital bag. You're a dreamer, too, darlin'. You're just like that.

Half a decade to the minute ago, I was about to become a parent; I was about to become your mother. I'd begin to learn the many ways you're just like us, and the quirky ways you're like no one I've ever known.

You know that hospital bag we packed? We didn't need it. We didn't use anything from it. All we needed was you.

At 6:01 tomorrow morning, you'll be five years old. I want you to know: these have been the best five years of my life. Pin It


Lenae said...

"All we needed was you." Darn it, Robin. You made me cry. Not cool, especially when my own pregnancy hormones have got me crying about everything, some of which deserves it (like extremely sweet posts such as this one) and some that do not (being unable to open a jar of spaghetti sauce.)

Lisa said...

Not cool at all. My oldest doesn't even turn 5 for nearly 2 more months and now I'm already crying at work.

Thank you. And happy early birthday.

Ninotchka said...

ADORE this post. Happy celebrating!

SmartBear said...

Robin, you have to stop making me cry. Hubby is starting to think I am losing it! You are amazing and I love this post. Happy Birthday to E!

Anonymous said...

How sweet Robin. Reminds my lazy butt that I bought a beautiful leather bound journal when I was pregnant to write letters to Drexel just like these. You're sweet words in this post have spurred me to action!