Friday, July 1, 2011

To Aiden, With Love

Each of us parents want our kids to have what we did not, to live a little bit better lives than the ones we experienced; to not make the same mistakes or travel the same rough roads we did.  I recall so clearly when I had to accept that my daughters would travel their own paths, make their own way in this world, including repeating mistakes I made or experiences I wish I’d avoided.  It began when my youngest daughter said to me, “I’m pregnant.”

She was too young.  She had not planned for this, and the father of the baby was as immature in mind and life experience as she was.  It took her awhile to tell me.  She assumed I would - what? Disown her? Abandon her?  While this was the LAST thing I wanted for her at that time in her life, I could not, would not treat her differently than I had her whole life – she would have my love, support, and whatever else she needed. 

I allowed her to make her own choice and when she said, “Mom, if I did anything to stop this pregnancy I could not look at myself in the mirror, I said, Okay then, we’ll make this work.”

That was nine years ago. 

I wasn’t there for the birth of my first grandchild.  I had been given an amazing opportunity to work in Yosemite for the summer and wouldn’t you know the day after I left to report to work, my daughter went into labor.  But I believe in the power of the Universe and this experience solidified my faith in Its wisdom. 

 
My best friend since the age of 9, Nancy, is the godmother to both my girls.

 She and her husband decided long ago that they would not have children, so Erin and Adrian became hers by extension.  Nancy has always been there for me no matter what the circumstance and when I called upon her to take my place at Adrian’s side, she readily agreed.  This would be the first time she witnessed a birth.  She was amazing and although I felt I was missing a beautiful moment, I was so grateful Nancy could be there and so happy for her to have this experience.
I was on the phone the whole time Adrian was in labor.  We knew it was a boy, knew what his name would be.  I could not be there in person, but I was able to be there in spirit. 

On his birth day I purchased a book from the Yosemite National Park bookstore.  I made my first entry and this is what I wrote:


Since that day I have come to know this little boy who is, along with his new brother, Noble and his little cousin, Rain, the greatest joy of my life.  Aiden is funny like his mother.  He is tender, yet shows his protective side when necessary; he would (and says so) defend his mother, his brother, and me to any “bad guy that would dare try.”  Aiden is very much like his mother; he doesn’t want to be told what to do, rather he wants to make his own way in this world, and that includes any mistakes that he has to make in order to learn from them.  

I have been there to mark his birth day ever since I missed the first one.  I have had the privilege to watch him become an amazing little man.  I am so grateful that I am here to know him. 

And that little book that I started writing in nine years ago?  It is filled with my words and those of many others that have had the good fortune to know Aiden.  He will know that from the very moment of his birth he was cherished by me and many others. 

Happy Birthday Aiden.  Thank you for teaching me that there are no mistakes in this world.  You were my very first lesson in that. 

And if any of my readers wish to, I invite you to send a submission to Aiden’s Book. 
I will print them out and add them to it. 
Newborn Aiden




Mother and son

I look just like my daddy!






Aunt Nancy





Fun with Nana


Welcoming baby brother

Two boys tired after play

Cousins

Holding a Mammoth tooth fossil

2 comments:

Sweet Tea said...

What a sweet love story about your special boys.
I dream of a day when all children are loved in such a way.

Wondering - any test results yet?
I've heard nothing so I consider that to be good news.
Be sure to keep me in the loop, new friend.

Vegas Linda Lou said...

What a beautiful little boy. (How could he not be?) Precious. You're a lucky nana.