Here I am – stealing a quote again. This one comes from an interview with Julia Roberts that I read in a random magazine in the kitchen at work one morning last fall. She said something about her relationship with her husband, but in reference to their kids, that struck me because I just thought it was beautiful:
'How lucky we are that we love each other so much that we burst into three pieces…'
I feel this way now. You see, I know I've been gone an awfully long time (two months is an absolutely dismal level of neglect, even for me) but I have one very wonderful reason:
Colin and I brought our son home last month and ever since I have felt differently about this Julia Roberts quote. I liked it before – but I understand it better now. I understand the feeling of awe behind it – I feel it every day. It's this overwhelming sense of gratitude when I look at Colin and realize that we are so blessed – blessed not only because we love each other, but because that love has created an incredible new life.
We're both completely smitten and we comment often about how we already can't completely remember what life was like before Grady arrived. Nor do we want to. Our love has expanded beyond the two of us to include something much, much greater.
Everyone always says that the love of a parent is different and I think I'm beginning to realize why that is. You see, every other relationship in your life is built around history – you love people because of who they are, what they've done for you or experiences you've had together. But the love of a parent for a child isn't predicated on any history; there is no history. They arrive in your life and you love them instantly, without hesitation, without reservation; they mean everything in that very first moment.
Our first moments with our son were actually filled not just with that feeling of overwhelming affection but also with fear. I waited nine months to hear my son cry out that first time only to hear… silence. After a long and exhausting labor, the doctor told me he was just 'in shock' and would be fine – but that silence filled me up with dread. They decided to take Grady to the NICU (which we had been assured in our birthing class 'very rarely happens – only in severe cases') but before they left, they laid him in my arms for only a moment. All I remember is leaning forward, looking deep in those dark blue-grey eyes and saying 'Come back to me. Please. Come back to me.' They took him from me, I looked at Colin and said 'Go with him' and then watched my whole world walk away.
In less than 30 minutes we knew he'd be fine but it took nearly two hours for him to make his way back into my arms. Ever since those first scary moments, I have vowed (repeatedly) to never take a single second with my son for granted. I love him in an overwhelming, heart-stopping way but the horrifying truth that I learned in that first moment is that there are certain things that even a mother is powerless against.
We are so lucky, so incredibly lucky – and we must never forget it.
