Miracle

I still find it so amazing that our children are a combination of both of us, both parents, mingling and mixing in the form of a new person, with a new personality and being and outlook. On the way home from the show last night I was looking at Luna, asleep, and amazed that she is my daughter, she came from my body, and is Ryan and I together.

I can't help but still think that it is a miracle. So what if it happens all the time, it happened with all of us, it is still a wonder.

I'm remembering our time with Otto in the hospital, the wonder he was to us. How much love we felt looking at him, head wrapped up in gauze, under which were tiny needles monitoring his brain waves, a line into a hand, into an arm, a catheter, bruises on his ankles from blood being drawn, but we saw HIM. He was just glowing with love and life for me. Being a first time mom probably made it easier because I had nothing to compare the experience to, I could be open to this one as mine and this baby as himself. He was a miracle.

His little nose, his skin. I wish I had touched him more in there. I wish I had held his hands in my whole hands for longer, held his feet. They were cooling him and I was afraid to mess up the process, the hospital had him, I wish I had been more of a bitch about it, and taken more ownership, known that he would have loved more touch. But we were there, and singing and talking to him, touching him lightly.

And once the MRI was over and we knew there was no longer any hope, we could hold him and hold him all we wanted. No more needles, no more blood work no more noodling and poking and prodding and discussing of MY son. He's mine, damn it, stop bothering him, he's mine now and I will hold him and sing to him and we will make all of the decisions now, and we will take him home so we won't have to hear any more beeps and light nurses conversations as their lives go on, no, we will take him home to the sun and trees and the whir of the fan and only people who adore him surrounding him. And now I will be his mama, his full mama, and my heart will open bigger than ever before and he will fill it up and I will feel his skin and his heart and he will hear my heart again and we will find so much healing. He will know our love.

He is my miracle, such an amazing combination of all the people who love him so much. Such a tender and sweet soft soul, velvet and moss but golden like the orange flowers outside at this time of year, his time of year. Oh my baby Otto. I miss you so much. I miss my sweet son.

He was not just a baby, he was his own person that we uniquely love. I like the idea of death being just another room, next door, that he is in, or another world, parallel to ours, that is beautiful and full of wonder and mystery and love, that I can send him love and he feels it and loves it. That he can send us love too.

I wish I could have known you more and longer and deeper in this world. Seen you on this coming Sunday, your 2nd birthday. Two. The terrible twos. The terribly wonderful twos, my sweet boy. I am so proud of you.