To Zach, On His 32nd Birthday
Dear Zach,
My first baby turns 32 today. Damn, seeing that number in print is jolting! It’s also humbling, bittersweet and a little like waking up in Acapulco on spring break in college, turning to look over at my girlfriends, and saying, “Wait, what just happened?”
Thirty-two years ago today, you and I battled it out over an almost 24 hour period ending in an emergency C-section. I know it would make a better story if I could say that after the battle, you and I bonded, and cuddled and dad and I swooned over our firstborn, but honestly, exhausted after pushing for hours only to be told to stop so they could rush me in for a section, I only remember being awakened later to hold you for a few seconds before I fell asleep again. It wasn’t until the next day when I got to meet my battered, black-eyed and bruised baby boy. The whole experience looked and felt nothing like what I’d seen in the movies. But, the silver lining of the less than movie quality delivery, was that back in the good old days, babies slept in the nurseries, mothers rested and, because of the surgery, I got to spend 5 nights in the hospital with you. Over that time, my alien looking (sorry, you’re a stunner now but you were a very different kind of stunner in those first few days) newborn got cuter, I got stronger and we bonded over baby bath classes and feeding times. I remember loving my nurses and my days recovering in the hospital, until I got the rash. August is not an optimal time to have an allergic reaction to an antibiotic, and the resulting head-to-toe, insanely itchy, miserable rash on top of a c-section incision was a rather unpleasant parting gift from our hospital stay.
It’s strange how my memories of those first few days are still so vivid, yet the last 32 years feel like a jumble of images flashed before me much like the two hour slide presentation of your grandmother’s parents’ trip to Africa. I see the incredible animals and the amazing scenery, but was that when they were in Botswana, Kenya or Zimbabwe? Did they see lions and elephants, hippos and rhinos or giraffes and tigers? I know it looked and felt like an amazing trip and I can sense the wonder, feel the vastness of the landscape and witness the joy in the images. Honestly, from where I’m sitting it looks like it was an incredible journey; the trip of a lifetime. But, Acapulco tequila and African safaris aside, I just want to know how we got here where did the time go?
I know I’m hardly alone in saying and feeling this, but that doesn’t make it any less disconcerting. I’m not sad about the passage of time because it’s been truly wonderful, yet, I would be lying if I didn’t say that I have nostalgic moments when I wish the world would slow down and I ache to get a day back; preferably a good day, when you were around two years old. I want to hold your hand while we take a walk, have you sit on my lap and listen to me sing, or rock in our rocking chair while I read to you. To see your small face, hear your little boy laugh and be the most important thing in your life again, even if it is just for a day would be wonderful.
I also joyously celebrate the passage of these 32 years and feel incredibly proud of you and happy for you. Today, you have your own family with your wonderful wife, Meghan, your daughter, Cora, and another baby girl due in a few months. As surreal as that reality is to me, certain events help to anchor all of it. I remember Easter break of your senior year of college, when you said, “I’ve met the girl I’m going to marry.” I recall meeting her for the first time, moving you out of your college apartment and into your horrifying first NYC apartment, then moving both of you into your much nicer Brooklyn apartment together. I was there with you celebrating your engagement, dancing with you at your wedding and standing next to you as you proudly handed your newborn daughter to me in a hospital room. I was there for all of it, and loved every minute of it.
The other night, after you lost power during the storm, and you all came to spend the night, Cora wanted “Nana” to come sing a song at bedtime. When she asked for “Toora Loora, like daddy sings,” I admit, I almost lost it. It was truly one of those circle of life moments. Singing to her and watching her fall asleep gave me that perfect day. There is so much of her in you; I see your two year old face and hear your voice in hers, listen to her laugh, and can see your sense of humor. I am so proud of all that you have accomplished and know how lucky Cora and her soon to be little sister are to have you as their dad. My baby has babies. It’s crazy…But, I wouldn’t change anything that happened 32 years ago today or anything that came after.
If we are very lucky, we will all be here to celebrate Cora’s 32nd birthday; and you will turn to your still incredibly young looking 88 year old mother and say, “How did it happen, it all went so fast! It’s not possible that I have a 32 year old daughter!” And I’ll smile knowingly and say, “You’re telling me? I’m a great grandmother!” And on it goes…
Happy 32nd Birthday, Zach!
I love you,
Mom