Saturday, August 11, 2012

Everyday Life: Carry You

It seems like I don't carry you much any more.

At freshly five, you are long and lanky and beyond a comfortable hip seat.

So I settle for snuggling you to sleep. Tonight, I practically have to beg you to let me be the one to see you off to your dreams, but you finally oblige.

And I breathe gratitude at having these minutes.

We lay in the dark, wrapped tight beneath blankets shielding our skin from cool of night-time lake air.

We whisper back and forth, and I tell you the story of five years ago today.

How we waited long and we waited patient for you to come. {"How long, mom?" Nine whole months!}

How I labored hours and then days. {"Did you eat? Did you sleep?" Not really.}

How I pushed you out of my belly. {"How!?" With strong muscles.}

And how all you wanted to do was sleep in my arms and nurse, which was good

because that's exactly all I wanted to do, too -- exhaustion set deep in my body, we both faded in and out of sleep for five glorious hours that first night.

You smile, and I remember the you from five years ago, tiny and snuggled against my chest, legs still shaking from the shear labor of your entrance.

We are still in thought, still in bed, snuggling

and I linger in the very effort, remembering the endurance,

how my muscles worked long

and hard

and well

to grow you,

carry you,

deliver you into arms that spent hours cradling and rocking your small self.

How these muscles fatigued and pushed beyond what I thought I could muster.

How I was so much stronger than I knew.

And how I didn't even have a clue that that would be the easy part.

That carrying you in belly and in arms and bearing down and bringing forth your life was only training for the muscle that would bear the real load.

Birthdays

How I couldn't have known that my heart would need all the training in strength it could build to wrap you up in this weight of heavy love and carry you long beyond what my arms ever could. Linking with The MOB society's Let's Hear it for the Boys.

5 comments:

  1. Hy! I'm in tears. This is beautiful. On the eve of paiges 4th birthday, I'm sitting here a puddle of mush... I've beensharing her bits ofwhen she was born all day, nd I just hope to keep. Bit of composure tomorrow.... oy...
    :)
    Happy birthday to you both :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hy! I'm in tears. This is beautiful. On the eve of paiges 4th birthday, I'm sitting here a puddle of mush... I've beensharing her bits ofwhen she was born all day, nd I just hope to keep. Bit of composure tomorrow.... oy...
    :)
    Happy birthday to you both :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. I watched the "cousins" play on the rafts in the lake today...4 of the 6 cousins. My 22 year old was at the lake, but hanging out with the uncles, with a beer and a fishing pole. And my daughter left a few days ago with her husband. So my two weren't playing with the cousins as in years past. And it was so strange. Just when I think I've adjusted to a phase, a wave of what was washes over me. I love what you wrote about preparing the muscle that will bear the real load. And bear it we do! As I was reading, I was brought back to the nights of tucking the kids in at night in the bunk beds...singing and snuggling and answering questions. This is just lovely!

    ReplyDelete
  4. "the weight of this heavy love" I adore that! such a talented wordsmith!

    ReplyDelete

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