Into the middle of all the darkness that surrounded me that spring a brilliant light arrived. Alice Marie was born on the last day of May.
Katy called me on Wednesday and asked if I could drive her to her pre-natal appointment. Her back was bothering her and she thought she might have pulled a muscle walking the night before.
i picked her up and we drove through wine country to the birthing center Katy and Adam had chosen.
The midwife asked Katy a few question, did a quick check and said the words we had all been waiting for:
“You are in labor.” Yep. Sometimes a back ache is a back ache and sometimes it is a whole lot more!
Since there was no hurry at this point I drove Katy back home so she could get her things, and Adam. I listened to Katy admonish Adam over the phone to “Drive normal. It’s not an emergency.”
Adam was already at the house when I dropped Katy off, because he had driven like a normal first time Dad. But a careful first time Dad I’m sure. I hugged them tight, wished them love, and reminded them I would HAVE MY PHONE ON AT ALL TIMES!!!!!!
And bright and early the next morning they called. Now THAT was a phone call I’d been dreaming of getting for a long time.
Katy called me on Wednesday and asked if I could drive her to her pre-natal appointment. Her back was bothering her and she thought she might have pulled a muscle walking the night before.
i picked her up and we drove through wine country to the birthing center Katy and Adam had chosen.
The midwife asked Katy a few question, did a quick check and said the words we had all been waiting for:
“You are in labor.” Yep. Sometimes a back ache is a back ache and sometimes it is a whole lot more!
Since there was no hurry at this point I drove Katy back home so she could get her things, and Adam. I listened to Katy admonish Adam over the phone to “Drive normal. It’s not an emergency.”
Adam was already at the house when I dropped Katy off, because he had driven like a normal first time Dad. But a careful first time Dad I’m sure. I hugged them tight, wished them love, and reminded them I would HAVE MY PHONE ON AT ALL TIMES!!!!!!
And bright and early the next morning they called. Now THAT was a phone call I’d been dreaming of getting for a long time.
It’s amazing how the birth of one child changes so much overnight. Katy became a mother, Adam a father, Jesse an uncle. Mike and I were suddenly grandparents and my parents were elevated to Great. And the look on my baby brother Sam’s face when I reminded him that he was now a “Great-Uncle”? Heh, heh, heh.
The light that child brought into my life cannot be measured. The reminder of what LIFE is. How simple it really is if you let it be. Sleep when you are tired. Eat when you are hungry. Cry when you feel like it. Poop. And do it all unabashedly.
One of the things I had gotten caught up in was acting like an “Adult.” I spent a ridiculous amount of time critiquing myself about what I said, how I acted. What if someone laughed at me? Or thought I looked silly? What if people talked about me?
And then the woman who helped me through the darkness planted this seed:
“We are all born perfect, but somewhere along the line we forget that.”
Alice showed me that perfection. By simply being herself.
She reminded me to act how I feel. When I’m happy I will laugh and dance and clap my hands. I will be happy with my whole being. When I’m sad, I will cry. I will get it out of my system.
She reminded me to notice the little things. To sit still and pay attention to the thousands of little details that make up this life. The smells and sounds and sights that I had been ignoring because I spent so much time in my own head instead of in the world.
She reminded me that acting honestly is not something to be ashamed of.
But mostly Alice reminded me that birth is as much a part of life as death.
Alice was my port in stormy weather. My lighthouse on the shore. When things became overwhelming I could go to her and be reminded of joy. Of life in the light. Those moments kept me afloat until I was able to swim again.
Love,
Chris
The light that child brought into my life cannot be measured. The reminder of what LIFE is. How simple it really is if you let it be. Sleep when you are tired. Eat when you are hungry. Cry when you feel like it. Poop. And do it all unabashedly.
One of the things I had gotten caught up in was acting like an “Adult.” I spent a ridiculous amount of time critiquing myself about what I said, how I acted. What if someone laughed at me? Or thought I looked silly? What if people talked about me?
And then the woman who helped me through the darkness planted this seed:
“We are all born perfect, but somewhere along the line we forget that.”
Alice showed me that perfection. By simply being herself.
She reminded me to act how I feel. When I’m happy I will laugh and dance and clap my hands. I will be happy with my whole being. When I’m sad, I will cry. I will get it out of my system.
She reminded me to notice the little things. To sit still and pay attention to the thousands of little details that make up this life. The smells and sounds and sights that I had been ignoring because I spent so much time in my own head instead of in the world.
She reminded me that acting honestly is not something to be ashamed of.
But mostly Alice reminded me that birth is as much a part of life as death.
Alice was my port in stormy weather. My lighthouse on the shore. When things became overwhelming I could go to her and be reminded of joy. Of life in the light. Those moments kept me afloat until I was able to swim again.
Love,
Chris