I had promised earlier this week that Thursday would be my first edition of FOAD. Some of you knew right away that I was lying because I have said that I wouldn’t do FOAD because I just can’t bring myself to tell someone to fuck off and die.
There was a time when I could have probably said that without thinking twice. There was also a time when I thought that nothing in the world matter as much as me. A time when my proudest achievement was how long I could go without sleep and what kind of sordid things I could convince some stranger in a bar to do - without requiring pictures for future proof.
There was a time when I was sure my success in life would be measured by the size of my bank account and the square footage of my big-city high rise apartment.
I had no need for anyone or anything, except me.
And then, seven years ago today, my son was born at 2:14 in the morning.
I hadn’t planned him, and I never in a million years had imagined I would want him. During my pregnancy, I seriously considered adoption - but not for the reasons I would have thought. I didn’t want to give him up because of what he could do to my life, but because of what I feared I would do to his.
It was probably the first truly unselfish thought I had had in years.
People would ask me what I “wanted” - a boy or a girl. And I would tell them that it didn’t matter because I instinctively knew, long before a doctor could tell me, that he was a boy. That was the closest thing to a maternal instinct I’d ever experienced.
When he was born, I looked at him in the hospital and waited for the rest of those instincts to kick in. I was scared out of my mind because I didn’t feel anything. Nothing to tell me that this one was mine, and not just some Baby Boy they had attached my name to in the nursery.
I remember thinking that he was absolutely the most gorgeous creature I had ever seen, with his silky smooth complexion and ginormous blue eyes - but that if anyone thought I was going to take a bullet for this kid they were freaking crazy. I wondered what the hell was the matter with me that I didn’t hear the angels singing or feel someone automatic lioness protection.
I wondered about the sanity of the hospital staff when they sent him home with me without so much as a training video on how to raise a child.
And then he came home and we lay next to each other on the couch and I realized that somehow, God had gotten it right in spite of me.
In the last seven years, my son has done more for me than I could ever possibly do for him.
And the obligatory mushy stuff that one does about their children on their birthday? He’s brilliant, and funny, and sensitive and still the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen. He is wise beyond his years.
And he is the reason why I think twice before telling someone to fuck off and die. Because seven years later, I am still trying to be the person he deserves me to be.
Happy Birthday my baby. I mean it every time I tell you that you were my miracle child.
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You know I was highly anticipating this post for it’s FOADness… but I like it just the way it is.
Tell him Happy Birthday!
December 14th, 2006 at 1:50 am
Happy birthday to your baby. Nice post.
December 14th, 2006 at 2:12 am
I wanted a FOAD.
Maybe you could do fuck off and suffer diarrhea.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to him! :grin:
December 14th, 2006 at 6:46 am
OMG! I can so relate! Mine is turning 9 on Saturday and I was thinking along the same lines just the other day.
Happy Birthday to yours!
December 14th, 2006 at 8:05 am
Happy birthday to your son. Are you buying him Elton John CDs or a manpurse?
And what’s with two nice posts in a row?
December 14th, 2006 at 8:36 am
Happy Birthday!
This is a beautiful post, Britt. I happen to think you are a wonderful mom and an amazing person, your children are incredibly lucky.
*sigh* If only I swung that way…
December 14th, 2006 at 10:37 am
Yep! Unfortunately kids have that effect on what used to be perfectly normal people.
December 14th, 2006 at 10:50 am
That’s cool.
I’m not much for maternal instinct either. I worry that I would rather sleep than get up to feed the kid in the middle of the night.
If I ever have any, I hope they make me want to be a better person too.
December 14th, 2006 at 11:43 am
Awww… that’s beautiful! And so exactly right.
Happy Birthday kiddo!
December 14th, 2006 at 11:59 am
Happiness today and ALL days. Please pass the wishes along.
December 14th, 2006 at 12:55 pm
Wonderful, beautiful piece. Bravo!
December 14th, 2006 at 1:01 pm
NYC, Mist, Dutch, Amy, J, wicked, crystal: thank you :smile:
Denise: LOL FOASD - I like that
avitable : so now you’re calling us both weanies, is that right?
I’m gonna kick your ass
David Barnes: well in my case, I’m convinced it was a good thing LOL
Ginamonster: it’s amazing the instincts we’re able to “find” when we needed them
and also to crystal:
Holy crap I can’t even tell you how psyched I am to see you on my blog. You rock, ya know?
December 14th, 2006 at 3:01 pm
You said your son is going to be a lovely gay man when he gets older. There are tough gay men out there. You, however are definitely a weenie.
December 14th, 2006 at 3:19 pm
Thank you for making me feel normal. I have this alien in my belly that I did plan, but oddly I feel no connection to, other than knowing it is my child. I spend a lot of time worrying about why I don’t feel something more. Thank you for letting me know I am okay, your post is beautiful.
December 14th, 2006 at 3:39 pm
Avi:
you better prepare your ego now… cuz your gonna get whooped up on by a weenie
debkitty:
why do you never leave your link and then I can’t ever remember your blog to get to! anyway… I don’t know if this is your first or what, but for me, it took that one for my instincts to “come in”. All of the stories I had heard before had me so fucking freaked because it wasn’t this Mother Earth moving experience.
I’m glad something I could share may help. :-)
December 14th, 2006 at 3:47 pm
A little petite blonde like you? I’ll just put one hand on the top of your head as you swing away futilely. It will be sooo cute!
December 14th, 2006 at 4:20 pm
“Because seven years later, I am still trying to be the person he deserves me to be.”
That sentence gave me chills. The good kind.
December 14th, 2006 at 5:27 pm
Miss Britt…you just say the word and I’ll help you kick avi’s ass. I’m in the mood since he’s so good at ruining a Hallmark moment.
Happy birthday to your Miracle Child. This was a beautiful post.
December 14th, 2006 at 7:08 pm
Happy Birthday to your son.
December 15th, 2006 at 11:22 pm
That was so sweet. I hope he had a wonderful birthday.
I’m one of those people with a well developed maternal instinct but no kids. I was lucky to have a friend who had 7 and shared. I was tons more maternal than her…odd.
December 17th, 2006 at 10:12 pm
Very touching, Britt … thank you for sharing that with us. I find myself thinking similar thoughts when it comes to my little one. She’s not mine, but my better half’s from a previous marriage — but I happily claim her in a heartbeat. She’s a pure ray of sunshine, and I pray that someday I may become half the woman she thinks I am. *s*
December 20th, 2006 at 6:49 pm