Sunday, June 28, 2015

The Big One

It wasn't that long ago that I was unconvinced kids were for me. I sat on the fence, leaning more towards the child-free zone. A career could be my baby, right? My dogs certainly were. That was enough, right? Other parents constantly reminded our childless selves that we had it so easy. So why not keep it that way, right? And all their "just you wait" had me wanting to wait, well, well past those childbearing years. 

But I knew I had found a true partner. And the notion of combining forces not just as friends, lovers and husband and wife, but combining just what our genes were made of was compelling. And so, eventually, as we flew from 30-somethings to late-30s, we made the purposeful leap. Was I capable of being maternal to something more than fur, paws and hooves? Was I meant to be a mother? This time last year, I was about to find out. 

Turns out, it wasn't cliche. It was the most natural role of my life. When Jameson Walden Weatherford's skin touched mine, the core of my very being changed. My heart did indeed burst into a million pieces, and it was put back together bigger, stronger and now living and breathing outside my body. To this day, it truly hurts to love this much when you find your heart constantly bursting.

So, I pray. I pray to know what to do with this kind of love. I pray for his protection. I pray for peace on his earth. I pray this little boy continues to grow and stretch with curiosity and enthusiasm. I pray he is a citizen of this small world we all call home. I pray he's grateful for his blessings, his freedom and his opportunities to show compassion. This includes this week's ruling on marriage equality by the Supreme Court and the wake of the tragedy that just happened in Charleston. I pray his heart also loves so much, it sometimes hurts, too. 

I also pray he continues to teach me my ways as a new mother. I pray for the patience I'll need ahead as he toddles into toddlerhood. I pray for the good health and energy that's needed for that. I pray I continue to embrace him with all that I've got, each moment I've got left. I pray our family will always be enough.

Here we are. One big one later. Moments ago, he was this teeny-tiny brand new newborn, coming into this world with the agony of labor and landing so sweetly and softly, skin-to-skin on my chest. And then, just like that, he rose up to his two feet and took steps away from me and into this brave new world. All within one year - one simple calendar and a new complex lifetime for us all ago.





Tuesday, June 16, 2015

So THIS is About to Happen



Walden Weatherford is making milestones faster than American Pharaoh. We're days away from turning the page on an entire year! The birthday part invites are out, and I already feel like a Pinterest failure. In other words, things are right on track. 

He's toddling and tumbling into his first steps. He's babbling and gesturing into speaking his mind. And he can make you laugh with all kinds of antics I didn't know were humanly possible. Things are so much easier and yet, at the same time, he's the Master of Disaster as he tornadoes around the house and leaves a trail of destruction behind. Still, I've never known something so worth celebrating than turning a year old . . . as a family.

Jamie just about fainted when he saw all of the Amazon Priming and planning I've been doing for this first birthday party. Sure, Walden won't remember it. But we'll never forget it. Truth of the matter, it's not about the baby boy; it's about us: Team Walden Weatherford. We made it. We three have begun an incredible journey. And with a few faults here and there, it's still a slam dunk. And that's how Da-Da got over the sticker shock and put on his party hat, too. 

The theme is "It's a Small World," a nod toward what I want my son to know on this Earth. Pictures to follow. Sentiments to arrive soon. And a celebration to never stop. 

It's a world of laughter, a world of tears
It's a world of hopes and a world of fears
There's so much that we share that it's time we're aware
It's a small world after all . . .