The first born child

Ah your first child! – nothing is sweeter.

In her book, The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver talks about the special place in a mother’s heart for her last born child.

The Last Born (An excerpt from the Poisonwood Bible)

A mother's body remembers her babies... the folds of soft flesh, the softly furred scalp against her nose. Each child has its own entreaties to body and soul.

It's the last one though that overtakes you. I can't dare say I loved the others less; together they were my first issue. I took one deep breath for every step they took away from me.
That's how it is with the firstborn, no matter what kind of mother you are... rich, poor, frazzled half to death or sweetly content. A first child is your own best foot forward, and how you do cheer those little feet as they strike out. You examine every turn of flesh for precocity, and crow it to the world.

But the last one; the baby who trails her scent like a flag of surrender through your life when there will be no more coming after... oh, that's love by a different name.
She is the babe you hold in your arms for an hour after she's gone to sleep. If you put her down in the crib, she might wake up changed and fly away.
So instead you rock by the window, drinking the light from her skin, breathing her exhaled dreams. Your heart bays to the double crescent of moons of closed lashes on her cheeks. She's the one you can't put down.

- Excerpt End


And so it is with my first child – he is my best foot forward.

Being a first time mom- I cannot say how I’ll feel about my last born child – for now I’ll have to take Barbara's word as truth.

But what I can speak to is the remarkableness of carrying the first child.
This one makes you a mom.

The day I found out I was pregnant was my re-birth.
I felt I was being born again into something so spectacular – no language has yet created the word to describe it.

I felt almost invincible and yet so humbled at the same time.
Humbled that I could be chosen and entrusted to raise this particular child.
Invincible because the world felt big and I felt big in it.

The first time I saw his heart beat on the sonar – I wept.
There was life growing inside me – an entire heartbeat was throbbing in my belly!

He was hardly the size of my pinkie the first time I saw him and yet already he had consumed my very existence - I knew then my life was forever changed.

When I sit in the bath, I call his name and there’s isn’t a sweeter word I know.

Now that he’s at that stage where he’s moving as though he’s building a castle in me – I know the time is close when I have to let him go.

Each movement is sweet sorrow – on one hand he’s telling me he’s fine and that fills me with such joy and yet on the other hand with each movement I know he’s growth brings closer the time I must let him go to be his own man.

No time has flown like these months I have carried him. And so time has being re-explained to me through his life. The fleeting time of this stage of our lives has made me truly aware of the briefness of the phase we call life on this earth.

Sometimes when I see children I wonder what my boy will look like – beautiful I know – but what will be the detail of his being?

In my mind I can see his little fingers reaching for my face – his lips pursing and feeling the new air – and I wish him joy. I wish him fullness and a life powered by purpose.
And I pray for him – I pray that he would find his path and always follow the Light Who is Pure and True.

My first child – my pride – he may always see me as the woman who gave him life- but it is he who has renewed my time on this earth.

And I have known of God’s existence from as far back as I can remember – but I look at my massive belly now – and now I know the meaning of divine. With the life of my child – I know the life of God is greater than anything I ever imagined.

Nothing in my life has taught me to let go like the arrival of my baby.

There are so many things in life we try so hard to control knowing full well our efforts are futile and yet we keep trying anyway.

For nine months I kept stretch marks at bay – in the final leg of my pregnancy I saw visible scars trailing crossing my belly.
For days I was distraught – knowing full well the scars that had been cast upon me would forever mark my body and this journey my boy and I had been on.
I wanted to weep – I wanted to scream – and for days I mourned the loss of my once perfectly complexioned belly. I felt the youth of life fall from me like a mighty queen from grace.
After perhaps the 987th time of looking at the scars under every possible light and angle – I accepted that my body was forever changed. And more than that – I prepared my broken heart for more changes that would not be pleasant. Finally, I buried the image of the me I once thought would last forever.
And therein came the freedom that had eluded me when I first saw the stretch marks.
Carrying my little guy has taught me yet another lesson – there is such freedom in letting go.
Carrying him in my belly has taught me so much – I can only imagine how much his life will teach me once he’s finally out here.
My boy – my child – my first born – you truly are love by a different name.

P.S. May the gift never be greater than the Giver.



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