Two months

May 27, 2009

Dear Asa,

We're unfolding this month lovie, you and me both. Suddenly, we're mobile. We go to the store, and the post office. We're learning to run errands. We've even flown across the country! Your very first flight was this month, from Albany Ny to Los Angeles Ca. And I have to admit it, I was scared. I can hardly define the nervousness that I felt. I think I was visibly shaken when we got to our quiet local airport (one that we've flown out of many times, never ever having waited in one single line) to find a string of people down the entire length of the terminal. There were more people there at 5am on a Wednesday that I ever could have imagined. What's worse is that your dad wasn't even booked on our flight! He was scheduled to head out later in the day, meaning that you and I would have to tackle the whole day of travel by ourselves. With a 38 minute layover at Newark Airport. I felt uncertain, stressed and totally uptight. And you know what? It was all for nothing. You were a doll, and absolute joy.You smiled at doting flight attendants, slept more than half the way and barely made a peep. And we even got to fly with your dad, making it all the better. Having him to support me was what made the difference I think. Just knowing that he was on our team, ready to help us in any way that he could - glaring at nearby passengers if they made rude remarks, holding our hands during take off, digging through bags for pacifiers and diapers. We made it to LA together without any trouble at all.

Our time in LA was idyllic. We stayed a little over a week with Cynthia and her family and it was a dream. We often remarked that it was the perfect summer vacation. Lillian, now 5 and a half, played with neighborhood kids, Harry, one and a half, split his time between following his sister and his mom, and little Althea, just three weeks older than you, sat, smiled and slept happily by your side. What friends you will have in those kids and what joy I take in knowing that. Throughout most of my pregnancy I imagined this very scenario - sitting in the sunny back yard, sipping wine, chatting and laughing with one of my dearest friends in the world, while you lay happily beside me soaking in the sun with her youngest daughter. Two little babies and two happy mommies, passing the time exactly as they wanted. It was just perfect.

(Lillian)

(Harry and the watermelon)

(Althea and Asa)

Every day I watch you emerge, watch you unfold and stretch into yourself. Your eyes - still navy blue but now with a brighter ring around the pupil - focus on me clearly now. They catch me as I float across your field of vision, smiling down at you from this motherly height. There's a moment of concentration, a pause and a slight furrow of the brow, and then the synapses fire, the message clicks, and you realize it's me, mom, and the dreamiest smiles spread across your face. Mouth open wide, showing pink toothless gums, lips upturned at the corners, buried into sweet, round cheeks. It is a heavenly moment, a superb burst of joy every time.


You've been full of noises these past few weeks as well. Grunts, squeaks and squawks of all sorts. Short bursts of throaty groans, high pitched squeals, angry cries that get you so worked up you are snorting with frustration. Most of your noises are ones of happiness though, and you often look your dad and I right in the eye when you cackle and screech. Needless to say, we chatter right back. This early communication astounds me. You already have things to say, opinions to express and requests to make. I listen and wonder what you're thinking, wonder what this interaction means to you. I listen and I hang on every syllable.

(Strawberry blond boy)

Your personality is climbing out, letting it's presence be known and I see it. I see you in there. A little person, a little human being, unfurling his leaf-like limbs and joining the world. And I am here, unfolding myself, changing and adapting, learning and growing into the mother I want to be. Together we greet the wide, wide world.



Love,
mom