I remember the day I took this picture. I had just begun to find our rhythm…. You were just over a month old. We’d laid in bed that morning cooing and I was staring at you thinking how much you had grown in the past month. Chiding myself for not taking many pictures, I readied my camera. I had it sitting beside me as I bathed you peacefully. I snapped a few shots, put it aside, finished your bath and snapped a few more. I held you and snapped a couple of me and you. I put you in a sling made of a scarf and snapped a couple too. You loved that sling for about 2 months then no more. You wanted to be up and about! As ever! Even in the hospital, hours after your birth, you were picking your head up and looking around… so strong! We have pictures and videos… remind me to show you. The nurses marveled at you. We all did.
And yet, I was terrified of you before I met you… I wasn’t ready! I was young… 21 & afraid. My life as I knew it was ending. All of my carefully laid plans taking a MAJOR detour! Your father was ready. He was thrilled from the SECOND we found out. THE INSTANT! Not me, lol! But then I began to make friends with you inside me. I talked to you. All the time. I sang to you. All the time. You loved music even then, my darling. I’d crank the bass up in the car as I was driving to school or work and I swear I could feel your happiness. And that’s where mine began as well.
I was so sick, son! Oh God, was I ever sick. I had Bell’s palsy at the end. When I took these pictures, it had barely gone away. But by then I had met you and counted the cost as well worth it. The second I saw you I recognized you. You looked straight at me from the table they laid you on and I saw my brother as a baby! I told your nana, “he looks like Josh.” Very first words I said. I saw you and Josh and your daddy all rolled into one. The rush of emotions was overwhelming to say the least.
We were robbed of our first night together. Something went wrong and I bled out for hours and had to be put to sleep as your dad and my mom watched and waited and prayed for it to stop. It did. I was ok. The next morning I was drained and nervous. As hard as everything else was, NOW is the real test. I was experienced with babies so I knew the technical stuff, feeding and changing etc… It was a blur until we got to go home. Putting you in that car seat made you look so tiny! We got you home and then it was real. I was a mother now. You made me that.
For anything I’ll ever give you or teach you, nothing compares to that, Gabriel. I gave you life, yes. But you gave me one too. You made me into a mother and have taught me so many things about life and love and happiness and faith and strength. I can never thank you enough for that. I feel the weight of this responsibility. I’m trying to guide you as best as I can and yet allow you to lead when it’s right. I’m trying to be the best example of a woman that I can be, Son. I want you to be as proud of me as I am of you.
I remember laying there one night about 6 days after you were born and thinking to myself. “How much do I love him?” I’m supposed to feel giddy? Over the moon? Instead, the biggest thing I felt was gravity. I felt you like an anchor. I felt alive in a different way. I was frustrated that I didn’t think I was feeling like I should! I felt quiet. A still blue sky where there should have been rainbows? I imagined you gone for a second as though I’d wake up and this would be a dream. It ripped through me like a knife. No! For everything that had changed for every hard and terrifying moment I would never change you or trade you back for the me I was before. It was in that moment I learned something about myself. I learned something about love. The way I love. I was almost shielding myself from how much you meant to me. Sometimes I do that, to get through things. I detach. My mind couldn’t learn alllllll these new things and deal with being so sick, and live on no sleep and comprehend how much I loved you.
I would have drowned in it. I love deeply, Son. So deep, the ocean is jealous. You got that from me. Still waters run deep and yet easily overflow. You’ll learn what that means as you grow up. It’s a blessing and a curse at times, mijo.
One of the biggest internal wars for me is wishing you could have stayed this baby and being crazy thrilled and ecstatic to see the man you’ll become and all that you will accomplish! The sky is not the limit for you, Gabriel. Shoot for the moon. Galaxies await you. You’re golden, Ponyboy. Lol, you’ll get that later too. I’ll make sure of it.
You truly are though, son. You are a golden boy. If I could have forged you myself, I would not have done a better job. I swear you are above and beyond everything I could ever ask for in a son. You’re the best of all of us. You have your father’s charisma, strength, and critical thinking. I see all the best bits from the ones I love too. Nana, Josh, Pawpaw, Aunt Belinda, Mel, Mia…. and you have your mother’s heart. My heart, my easy smile, and my love for learning.
Every one who gets the chance to meet you or know you comes away impressed. I’m inundated with compliments for you. How smart, how kind, how loving, how funny, how amazing you are. I’ve been stopped by strangers to tell me how remarkable you are. You’re my dream come true. I always wanted a son. I knew you’d come. I’m proud beyond speech of you. Hearing you read aloud with inflection makes my heart burst. Watching you infuse new words into your already impressive vocabulary bowls me over. You can’t know this now, I’m trying to balance it. I don’t want to spoil you. Lol. But I know there’s no real danger of that. You’re 24 karat, Baby. I watch you teach your baby sister something. Help her put on her shoes. I watch you watch her and olivia, ever their guardian. The archangel Gabriel, lol. When I see you stand up to something that’s wrong, stick up for the underdog, question the status quo. EVERY TIME I see your hopeful smile and hear that little voice say, “well, the good thing is…” You say that a lot, I hope you never stop. I hope you never stop finding that good thing. I pray you always see the silver lining, because I promise there always is one.
So you see, Son, I was worried and a nervous wreck from the beginning. Seven years have flown by and I can tell you I’m not so worried anymore. I know you’ll be amazing! You’ll try hard and be a good person and love people deeply. That’s all I can ask. I’ll always have something to worry over, you’re safety or someone hurting you, life in general happening to you. But YOU, Gabriel, I don’t worry about. I just sit back and enjoy the show….
Love Always,
Your Mama
Ps. These are the pictures from that day!
LifeOfLovey 