There are only 5 post-birth entries in the pregnancy journal I kept from Sept 11, 2002 to June 14, 2003. These are the last pages of that record.
14 june 03
Saturday morning and I'm up before 8 a.m. with a smile on my own face because of how happy you always are to see me when you wake up. This early weekend rising is fairly new to me (your mommy loves her sleep), but it's funny how quickly it's become my preference. And last night, some old friends met up for a reunion of sorts at a local bar while I stayed home to watch Peter Pan and cuddle with my baby boy. I played along when a few commiserated at my having to miss the fun, but I really wasn't missing a thing: a Disney Friday night with you sounds just about perfect, Sammy.
Which isn't to say that I've thrown over all social contact in favour of hermit-mothering: in fact, we have more invitations than we can accept and have routinely met up with Lia at the Second Cup and Mary at the department in addition to taking daily walks with your aunt & cousin. This week we have two lunches and next weekend is Heather & Russ's wedding (for which you have the sharpest outfit!). We've also kept up our Girls' Dinners on Thursdays with Trace, Jillie, Kim, Kat and Deb. So far, the three babies have been pretty easy to manage!
My friends have asked me to describe what it feels like to be a mother, and the fact is that I feel like I did before you arrived. I expected that my world view, my character, my whole being would shift dramatically upon giving birth, but it didn't. I'm fundamentally still "Angie," but with exponentially more love in my life. And, minute to minute, I'm motivated by the strong desire to ensure that you are loved and cared for. So my best response for how I feel to be a mother is to say that you have become the focus of all that I have in me to give and the source of a kind of happiness I knew nothing about before. I feel (for the lack of better, non-yoga words) grounded and purposeful. Without losing a bit of myself, your needs and wishes are also mine; your happiness engenders mine. It's as though my heart and soul are bigger than they used to be because they are tied so absolutely to yours.
Watching you nod to sleep in your swing has me marvelling at your existence. I often find myself wondering "where did you come from?", thinking--as philosopher Gilbran suggests--that you have come through me, not from me. That you are made of stars. I'm thrilled by the simple fact of you, nevermind by the amazing things you do everyday. ... And now it would seem that the time for such reflection is over, as the prevailing breeze informs me that you need a diaper change in the worst way. Back to the daily practicalities of motherhood.
Love, Mommy
14 june 03
Saturday morning and I'm up before 8 a.m. with a smile on my own face because of how happy you always are to see me when you wake up. This early weekend rising is fairly new to me (your mommy loves her sleep), but it's funny how quickly it's become my preference. And last night, some old friends met up for a reunion of sorts at a local bar while I stayed home to watch Peter Pan and cuddle with my baby boy. I played along when a few commiserated at my having to miss the fun, but I really wasn't missing a thing: a Disney Friday night with you sounds just about perfect, Sammy.
Which isn't to say that I've thrown over all social contact in favour of hermit-mothering: in fact, we have more invitations than we can accept and have routinely met up with Lia at the Second Cup and Mary at the department in addition to taking daily walks with your aunt & cousin. This week we have two lunches and next weekend is Heather & Russ's wedding (for which you have the sharpest outfit!). We've also kept up our Girls' Dinners on Thursdays with Trace, Jillie, Kim, Kat and Deb. So far, the three babies have been pretty easy to manage!
My friends have asked me to describe what it feels like to be a mother, and the fact is that I feel like I did before you arrived. I expected that my world view, my character, my whole being would shift dramatically upon giving birth, but it didn't. I'm fundamentally still "Angie," but with exponentially more love in my life. And, minute to minute, I'm motivated by the strong desire to ensure that you are loved and cared for. So my best response for how I feel to be a mother is to say that you have become the focus of all that I have in me to give and the source of a kind of happiness I knew nothing about before. I feel (for the lack of better, non-yoga words) grounded and purposeful. Without losing a bit of myself, your needs and wishes are also mine; your happiness engenders mine. It's as though my heart and soul are bigger than they used to be because they are tied so absolutely to yours.
Watching you nod to sleep in your swing has me marvelling at your existence. I often find myself wondering "where did you come from?", thinking--as philosopher Gilbran suggests--that you have come through me, not from me. That you are made of stars. I'm thrilled by the simple fact of you, nevermind by the amazing things you do everyday. ... And now it would seem that the time for such reflection is over, as the prevailing breeze informs me that you need a diaper change in the worst way. Back to the daily practicalities of motherhood.
Love, Mommy
1 comment:
Fantastic blog, Ang. This will be the biggest treat to Sam when he gets older...and a nice treat to those of us who know and love you now. You *really* need to get on that whole 'writing the next great Canadian novel' thing...!
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