A Letter to My Baby on His First Birthday

“Through the blur, I wondered if I was alone or if other parents felt the same way I did - that everything involving our children was painful in some way. The emotions, whether they were joy, sorrow, love or pride, were so deep and sharp that in the end they left you raw, exposed and yes, in pain. The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represented just that - a parent's heart bared, beating forever outside its chest.” 

― Debra Ginsberg

Dear Cyril,

You were born fat with black hair to a fearful father with brown eyes and a mother who didn't know what to do despite the plethora of books she read whilst she was pregnant.

You fought as hard as you could to stay inside and screamed for 10 hours when you finally emerged.

Your father and I were relieved you were breathing but petrified by the shrillness in your voice.

At one point we simultaneously turned to one another and asked, “What have we done?”

You were impatient, stubborn, and refused to sleep anywhere but snuggled in your Moby wrap. If we even thought of putting you in your bassinet you would wake up instantly and make us pay.

Usually this consisted of your father putting you back in the carrier and walking for hours beneath the crescent moon while I tried to find a comfortable sleeping position nestled between the dog and wall upstairs.

Did I mention you were stubborn?

Slowly you started sleeping in your bassinet and then just like that you refused to sleep with us. I would try to have a little snuggle but you weren’t having any of it, you wanted your own space or to be carried while you snoozed, and Rabby, lest we forget the beloved Rabby. Do you know that mama has a Rabby too? Grandma bought it for me when I was 5 and I still have her. She’s only had one knee surgery, one brain surgery, a reconstructed tail, and a brand new nose.

You and I didn’t get off to a great start but day by day, baby massage after baby massage, and 10 yoga sessions later a small bud of love began to blossom and it’s grown so much that it no longer fits inside our home.

You have become my little sidekick. I thought about putting you in nursery 1 day a week so that I could get some things done without tagging you, Hobson, and a 50 pound nappy bag around but the mere thought of it made me cry, I feared the separation so much that in the end I never completed the form and it now sits crumpled up in the bottom of the recycling bin. My number one priority was to have a family but I never once imagined giving up my career to become a mother. Then you came along and I've realised it was the best decision I've ever made. I'll go back one day but right now, when you still fit so perfectly in my arms, head resting on my shoulder, tiny breath after tiny breath rising and falling against my chest I cannot let you go, not yet.

I’m convinced It’s the greatest catastrophe of all time for the bond created between mother and child to be broken when the child becomes fully independent. Every day you become more independent, and meet a new milestone is one step further away from me; it makes me happy, sad and scared all at the same time. Yet somehow, I'll know I've done my job correctly when you're independent, as sad a day as it will be. 

You’re a son, friend, cousin, grandson, nephew and the best thing that ever happened to us.

You’re stubborn, energetic, happy and interested in everything.

You wear cloth nappies because your mother is petrified of chemicals.

You've eaten more cheese toasties then I'd like to admit, sometimes I sneak an organic tomato or avocado in there to make me feel like a better parent.

Every week I vow to make healthy recipes but there always seems to be something else occupying our time like gymnastics, swimming, baby signing and meeting up with your best friends.

Speaking of sign language, you are undoubtedly the worst student. Not because you're not smart but because while all the other kids sit and listen you decide it's far more interesting to push the chairs around the auditorium, climb up the stairs and go through the other mothers nappy bags. Oh and the teacher had to start offering you more rice cakes because you developed the habit of going around and stealing the other children's out of their mouths! I'm convinced we'll be banned before long.

I always thought I'd be the disciplinarian and raise the well behaved child, you know the one who says please and thank you to everyone and never has a temper tantrum. Then I had you with these big blue eyes and the cutest little smile and I melt every single time I should be reprimanding you. Thank goodness, dada isn't so easily persuaded or you'd be running the show around here.

I know this letter is all over the place, but frankly it's because my mind is all over the place, you're so quick and into everything that I don't think I ever get a second to sit down, except when you're sleeping, thank god you sleep well.

We've learned a few things this first year together as mother and son...

I've learned not to read too much about parenting and to calm the fuck down. 

You've learned that you can turn the pages in books but that sitting down to listen to a story is boring.

I've learned to under react to every single situation even if you decide you want to eat oatmeal with your hands and then touch everything you can get your sticky fingers on.

You've learned that if you don't like something Hobson is a garbage disposal.

I've learned that we can take you out later at night but only if we have a variety of snacks on hand.

You've learned how to manipulate mama to only pack fruit for snacks.

I've learned to lower my expectations about what the perfect mother looks like.

You've learned to love me no matter what.

I've learned to forgive, forget, and move on.

As a result, you've become a happy and contented baby, most of the time.

I hope you have a wonderful first birthday. Thanks for being you and for making your father and I laugh every day.

Love,

Mama

P.S. If and when you read this at an older age apologies for being such a sappy mother, I can't help it, I cry almost everyday when the news is on and sometimes I cry during puppy commercials.