I remember

Dear Goose,

When you first came into existence you were an egg in a petri dish that managed to get fertilized.  You multiplied in cells along with others to become one of my much loved embryos.  You and one sibling grew together to be our strongest hope to give Bug a little brother or sister.  There were others, but they were not as strong.  So we picked you and one more to transfer back into my waiting body, and hoped that at least one of you would burrow in for a long 40 week stay.

One of you was a mere 8 cells, and one of you was a mere 9 cells.  We have pictures of both of you.  We will never know which one you were little fighter boy, but to me it doesn’t matter.  I’m sad that we lost your sibling in there, but you were strong and you latched on and burrowed in and held on tight.  I am so thankful for that my love.  I am so glad that in that beginning you knew I was meant to be your mother, K was meant to be your daddy, and YOU were meant to be our Son.

I knew you made it before we had the blood test to prove it.  I just knew it, in my gut, in my soul, and in my being.  I took that leap against your daddy’s wishes and took a home pregnancy test that minutes later took on a faint second line.  I remember that moment so well, I remember the tears that flowed.  I remember pouncing on your daddy who was still asleep to tell him the amazing news that he was going to be a daddy again.  I remember his sleep hazed shock and overwhelming happiness.

I remember 40 pretty uneventful weeks of pregnancy.  I remember agreeing to be induced 1 day after your due date because I couldn’t hardly stand, walk or sit, and I remember a short but powerful labor.

I remember your first scream.  Oh man do I remember.  You were pink and healthy and screaming, very unhappy to be forced into the cold world around you, out of the warm place you had been so content to try to stay.  That first scream lasted a good 20 minutes.

I remember the first time you latched onto my breast.  Gratefully sucking away somehow knowing it was your survival.  It was an amazing moment, the way you knew exactly what to do, the way it quieted those screams down.

I remember the first time your daddy looked at you. I remember the look of love and pure adoration on his face.

I remember introducing you to your sister for the first time.  She was so excited that baby was here, and just wanted to hold you and hug you and kiss you.

I remember bringing you home.  Officially, finally making our family of 3 a much wanted family of 4.

I remember the early sleep deprivation.  The ease that breastfeeding came to us.  The reflux that made me want to cry with you.

I remember how you always want to be held. By me. Except when you didn't.

I remember being peed on when I forgot to make sure your diaper was on, well, correctly. 

I remember being so scared when you were a mere month old and your sister had to spend a few days in the hospital.  I was so afraid you were going to get sick too.  I hated taking time away from you, but needed to spend time with her.

I remember you rolling over.  I remember you sitting up unsupported at 5 months.  I remember you crawling.  I remember that first tooth breaking through at 8 months, and the 5 teeth that followed over the next 3 ½ months.  I remember you taking those first awkward steps at 10 months, and then it was off to the races.

I remember the craziness of you being a boy. 

I remember pink shorts at a restaurant when I forgot to bring you a change of clothes.

I remember feeding you solids for the first time at 6 months, and how you immediately shoveled food into your own mouth.  I love that I’ve never had to feed you, that you’ve been so independent to do it on your own.

I remember the jokes daddy and Nana made about what a mama’s boy you were, and still are. 

I remember that when nothing else would sooth you, I always had the power to do so.  Sometimes by the breast, sometimes by walking, sometimes by bouncing, and sometimes by simply holding you.

I remember the adoration in your beautiful blue eyes as you looked up at me.

I remember how different you are than your sister.  How wonderfully, fiercely YOU you are.

I remember the first time you said mama and dada. I remember when you looked at me and said mama, knowing that was me.

I remember how you’ve adored your sister since day 1.  How you want to be just like her, do what she does, play with what she plays with, go where she goes.

And I remember holding your sleeping body in my arms.  Heavy with fatigue myself.  Marveling at the wonder and miracle that I hold in my hands.

1 year ago today my little Goose.  1 year ago today you came into this world so fast and furious that I knew life would never be the same.  All of these little memories will never go away.  They may fade with time and life may get in the way, but they will never disappear.  Because I will not let them.

Happy Birthday my little Goose, my little boy, my son.  I cannot wait to see what memories this next year brings with you.  I cannot wait to watch you grow more into the little boy you are meant to be. 

I love you Goose, forever and ever. 

Love,
Momma

“….I wanted you more than you’ll ever know, so I sent love to follow wherever you go..."