For Kendell
Thursday, July 12, 2007
The first time my eyes met yours, it was like falling into deep dark wells of chocolate. In that one moment I ceased to be a child and became a mother. That transition was never easy, but it was never one I regretted either. I remember sitting there worrying because they had taken you away immediately after you were born. I saw the doctor whisk over to the basinet this silent child mottled in red and blue. I could see the shock of your dark hair and your pinched face. You were so quiet, but I was so tired. I had been trying to push you out of my womb for almost three hours and when you finally decided to make your entry into this world, I was exhausted.
“What’s wrong?” I asked the nurse left behind as the rest bundled you up and rushed you out, your grandmother hurrying after in their wake.
“Nothing to worry about honey, he’s having a little trouble breathing and they just want to take care of that.”
Strangely I wasn’t worried. Maybe it was the bone deep weariness pulling its cloak over my eyes, or most likely it was the fact that your grandmother was with you. I knew deep in my marrow that nothing would happen under her watch.
I had read all kinds of baby books before you were born; it was natural to pick up a book when I had questions. In each of those books it was stressed about the importance of bonding with your child after birth, it was two hours after you had been born and I had yet to hold you, your grandmother had gotten to, coming back with stories of how strong you were, how alert, but here I was empty armed and empty bellied. I felt very alone without your little heartbeat pulsing beneath my skin.
When they brought you to me you were bundled up so tight with a little cream cap pulled up to a point, my little football player. Your face chubbed out over the blanket, your lips bowed into a pout; I had never seen anyone so beautiful as you.
“Well hello Kendell,” I said. “I’m your mommy.”
Your eyes opened to my voice as you tracked the movement of my lips.
“Chocolate, you’re eyes are the color of melted chocolate.” I pulled you close and we stared at one another till your eyes drooped and you gave in to the insistent call of the sandman.
I laid you in my lap and examined each inch of you. I loved your toes; small little piglets on perfectly miniature feet. When I nestled your little head under my chin and rocked you close to my heart, I finally knew what belonging felt like.
You gave me a purpose that I had been lacking, directions in a world that had once been a vast wilderness where I had no map. It was in that moment that I became someone worth knowing, because of you my little boo bear, because of you.
link | posted by Kara at 7/12/2007 10:17:00 AM
