When I see our baby for the first time on the ultrasound screen, I cry. He moves a lot, and I can see him and feel him at the same time. I am in awe of the mystery and miracle of his existence.And here is a brief letter I wrote to him after he was born:
Driving home from work. My son is awake and very active. I gently push his foot away from my sore ribs. I sing lullabies and even make up a song. His movements slow down as though he is listening.
The touchstone of my son's movements inside me. Quick kicks and long, slow stretches. I do not tire of sitting quietly with my hand on my belly, feeling you.
Dear Sage,Unfortunately, I never finished that letter. I imagined I was writing these things for him to read when he was older. I never imagined I might be rereading them myself under these circumstances.
Tomorrow is your two week birthday. As I write this, you are sleeping, curled against your papa in our big bed. So much has happened in this short time since your birth that I hardly know where to begin. I want to try, though, to record these days for you because you will have no memory of them, and someday you may wonder.
You were born on Friday, June 22, 2007 at 3:50 p.m. The night before you were born, Papa and I were visiting with Aunt Sarah, and she said, "Tomorrow would be a good day to give birth." She gave me a knowing smile.
This sweet photo was taken during the first few days of his life. We had a little photo shoot going, and I guess it made him sleepy.