I enjoyed our run together this morning. I look forward to a lifetime of those with you in many forms---now with you inside me, eventually with you in a jogger, later on maybe you'll enjoy it as a youngster, and then eventually the fun of watching you run far faster than what I'll be able to do as we grow up and older together. I'm not a young mother and I see quite clearly how this process will be one of continually handing off the baton to you. "You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth." I will be your bow, joyfully, and I'll send you forth, with love, and with my own fair share of worry and faith.
Worry and faith. I realize as I nurture you deep inside my belly that I would already lay down on the tracks for you, Peach. Funny, one of my pregnancy books says that if I met a proportioned 6 foot version of you in a dark alley, I'd scream and run the other way. OK, so maybe you aren't so cute yet with your paper-thin skin and your eyes on the sides of your head. But I'm in love with you already and am holding a tremendous amount of love and intention for you. I want to sing you into this world with joy. So, Mark and I started our ritual of singing to you a few days ago. We know that soon you'll be able to hear us. We'd been talking about wanting to sing to you and talk to you directly and we wanted to pick out a few specific songs that would become "standards" that you will grow to love. What finally prompted us to get to it and pick out some songs was the fact that I needed to sing not only for you, Peach, but for other babies. See, tragedy strikes many babes, and I see it firsthand when I go to work and visit with parents who have infants. This week, I learned that a baby I'd held and loved was shaken to death by his father. Insane and unfathomable. Almost enough for me to say I can't do the work anymore. That night I needed to sing a song to offer my contribution to bridge that baby's soul onto rest and safety. Singing songs to help the babes along, to help you, Peach, to feel comfort in the womb, and to help my lost friend find his way to the other side. We sang three songs-- "The Trees of the Field" (a traditional hymn but I go by the lovely folk version by Annie Blood Patterson) and we also sang a traditional goodnight song that I know the Grateful Dead cover and we also sang "Free to Be You and Me". The "trees" song was the final song at mine and Mark's wedding--sweet and fun and joyful---necessary ingredients for holding the complexities of this life!
Last note--Peach, a couple of weeks ago, you got to attend the 10 year wedding anniversary celebration of your Papa and I. A dozen friends gathered 'round us and witnessed a renewal of our vows to each other. Your presence was felt, as our friends commented on how the next decade of marriage will be quite different from the first, namely because we will be spending a lot of time with you! Our friends are delighted that you are joining us. We sang the "trees" song. I hope it will be one of your favorites.
Here are pictures from the anniversary celebration. Can you tell that you are inside me, Peach? You are now 15 weeks old and you are certainly making my pants fit more tightly!
Mama and Papa
Mama and Papa
Mama and Papa
Our devoted witnesses to the vow renewal
Mama and two very special girlfriends. The one on the left is Sarah. She gave us the beautiful little infant "milagro" from South America to help Mama and Papa conceive. It worked! The one on the
right is Lisa. She is going to be at your birth, Peach. She is a beloved friend who is guaranteed to
be the best auntie EVER.