To say I'm going through an emotional 1st birthday wishes for my son would be an understatement. As I sit to write this letter to my son on his first birthday, I'm struck by the rollercoaster of this past year…
So let's give this open letter to my son on his birthday a try for both inspiration and reflection… because much like a sailor once said look out at the vast sea, “never in my life have I experienced such beauty, and fear at the same time
Oh Captain, my Captain…
I don't know that I'll ever stop greeting you in letters like that…
My beautiful boy… I can't believe it was a year ago I sat, praying for you to come and here we are, my son turning 1!
I wanted you to wait until after my birthday SO badly… but then with those final few days leading to your birth I started wondering if you'd ever come…
It's no secret I love my astrology and human design… and while I originally thought you were waiting to share a sun and moon sign with my own biological father… it turns out, you were waiting to share a sun and moon sign with me.
The most emotional and unemotional signs of the astrological world coming together to make quite the enigmatic package. I'd grown to understand it within myself; but being faced with it in you was a whole new challenge.
I'd always heard my kids would be “pay back” or “karma” to the challenges I put my own family through, and boy did you come out swinging.
What's that phrase again? A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor…
Well, I've certainly learned many new skills through you.
Your first few weeks you were as calm, peaceful, and angelic as could be.
I breathed a sigh a of relief. I had multiple panic attacks while pregnant with you and I was so scared for how you'd be…
But then week 3(ish) hit.. and all my fears became a reality.
You stopped sleeping. Arched at the boob. We couldn't lie you down on your back. You were up ever 20-40 min at night. All while I kept straining my back, finding myself bedridden.
It'd take nearly 2 months of trying every holistic reflux remedy under the sun before I'd call the lactation consultant who figured out we were dealing with a foremilk/hindmilk imbalance and helped us fix it.
Those two months felt like the longest two months of my life.
I questioned if we'd made a mistake having another kid.
I felt like a failure, unsure of how to bond with you.
One minute you were the happiest baby in the world, the next there was nothing I could do to console you. It seemed like breastfeeding created more issues, while simultaneously being the only thing you wanted.
And try giving you a bottle? Forget about it! I forget exactly what your dad would say about it…”it's like I'm coming at him with poltergeist!”
Once we sorted out the milk supply, things slowly got better. You were still pretty “trigger” happy; going from 0 to a infinity in the blink of an eye leaving your dad and I utterly dumbfounded at what just happened to cause such intense emotions in you.
Both your dad and I would tense up when that would happen. We'd fear it was happening again. You had a very specific cry during that challenging time, and if we heard anything close to it, we'd both be right back in that place of despair. It felt like we all were recovering from PTSD together.
It took another two months of actively reframing you as a person for us all to let that go.
Daily acknowledgements that you were not the same baby. It was a phase as challenging and daunting for you as it was for us…
Remembering the baby you were those first few weeks. By 6 months, I'm happy to say, we all started breathing much easier.
Your smile lights up everyone and everything you come in contact with.
Your giggles fill our home with the sweetest music.
Watching you and your sister and dad brings tears to my eyes.
While those first few months may sound dreary, the truth is, I look back on them with gratitude.
You quickly held a mirror up to my own extremes. Showing me the magic of being human. Of needing others to help us through. Teaching us patience and perseverance in rebuilding, repairing, and growing.
Truthfully, I think you did that for us all…
A rising tide lifts all ships afterall…
Your birth shook us all up in a way I don't think we expected. An individual and family transition we never could've anticipated.
In fact, the day you were born there was a double rainbow.
And wouldn't you know? On your first birthday, as we left the beach for the morning what was in the sky? Another double rainbow over our house this time.
You've taught us to ground into the earth, while trusting our higher selves.
You're most at peace in nature… especially the beach. While also stealing all of your sisters crystals every chance you get.
Since around 10 months old, you actively work to have gentle hands and share with your sister and it's astonishing how much you understand AND try in social situations.
Your dad and I always try to guess if you're an old soul or a young soul.
You're simultaneously in awe of everything, like a newborn seeing a parents face for the first time, while also seeming wise beyond your age.
I always knew I’d have a son, but never imagined him as sweet, compassionate, wise, and charming as you.
You love being with us, seeing what we are doing, and we love having you as part of our family. You push us into the present moment. To connect, ground, splash in the ocean, and hunt for hidden treasure.
There's no greater son I could've ever envisioned. The most sensational blend of yin and yang; calm and curious; observant and testing.
I'm forever grateful for the gifts you've already given us, and to witness the man you'll become.
On your first birthday as your mother, these are my wishes for you:
- To always take a deep breath before you react
- Always feel the full spectrum of your feelings, then let them go…
- Keep smiling and never lose your innocence and tender heart
- To learn from your mistakes… (seriously, SAFE WAY OFF and stop closing your dang fingers in cabinets, we've already been to the ER once for those little guys!)
- Know the Universe is always conspiring in your favor