Henry, twenty-one years ago today I gave birth to you, and nothing was ever the same again. This morning we called you early, to say “happy birthday,” and to marvel at the fact that you’re all grown up. You have two more finals to take before you get to board that bus for the airport and catch a flight home for Christmas. And we won’t get to go out to Harlows for that legal drink I promised you till Tuesday night. But all day I’ve been thinking about that bitterly cold morning twenty-one years ago, when you arrived on the planet, all six pounds of you, and turned me and your dad into parents. The transformation was profound. Whatever, whoever, we’d been the day before — well, we could barely remember that innocent young couple, so intensely focused were we on the astonishing fact that we had suddenly been blessed with a baby, with a brand new life, placed into our humble, unschooled hands. Were we up to the job?
“A child is born!” proclaimed a sign alongside the road as we drove you home from the hospital just three days before Christmas. Yes! I thought, and began to cry at the enormity of it all. Little did we know that the combination of exhaustion and hormones and joy and wonder would produce a river of tears over the next days — every Christmas carol and newspaper headline and tiny baby gift brought me to my knees. We dressed you up in a red velvet Santa suit and passed you around to each adoring family member on Christmas day, marveling all the while at what we had wrought — you! Since that day that you found your way out of my body and into my arms, you have led me to just about every place I’ve needed to go; the spiritual journey that is motherhood began for me in the moment I gazed into your eyes for the very first time, and it continues now, as I learn to trust your wings, to have faith that we have given you all we can and that you are ready to fly. So much of what I know about being a mother I learned from you — how to love without condition or expectation, how to believe in the rightness of things as they are, when to push and when to wait, when to trust my inner knowing and when to ask for help, when to hold tight and when to let go.
In a few days, you’ll walk through the door, dump your bags upstairs, open the piano, play something from the Christmas song book, and then, surely, something I’ve never heard before. I’ll try to keep my cool, try not to get all mushy on you. But I can’t fool you. You know I can’t wait for that moment to arrive, for your music to fill the house and for our family to be gathered again under one roof. Happy birthday Henry, and hurry home — we’ve got the tree decorated, the lights in the windows, all our favorite books piled up in the living room. But Christmas won’t really start till you get here.
Beautiful! For the past few months I have faithfully read your blogs, and you have helped to inspire and color my world of parenting. My oldest is about to embark on his college experience which may take him from coastal Rhode Island to central Indiana for school. Through your book and your blogs I feel a connection to another mom letting go. Thank you.
Our daughter arrived home from college this afternoon, and we just finished putting the last of the ornaments on the tree. I am surprised that is my husband who becomes wistful at this event, but I understand his thinking – will this be the last time the four of us are able to do this? Where will the kids be next year, and will they come home for Christmas? How hard I find it sometimes to embrace the joy that surrounds me – I always seem to be living in the future, perhaps trying to find a way to hold onto the present a little longer. Blessings to you and yours, Katrina, and may you all enjoy a wonderful Christmas filled with lots of family time.
Katrina, having just started this journey of motherhood, my memory of my daughter's arrival is still so fresh. My best friend, who attended the birth, kept copious notes of the events of that very long day, and right after Abra was born I said, "Now we have to take her home and love her and raise her and stuff." And stuff! Her being 21 is simply unfathomable to me, which is sure is just how you felt 21 years ago.
Job well done, mom!!
My daughter is home too, and I am so enjoying both chicks in the nest for the holidays. This is such a bittersweet time… the holding on and letting go. We took our daughter out for her first legal drink a month ago, and last weekend she ordered a drink at a restaurant and I gave her an unbelieving look..and then I realized.. she CAN!…. *sigh*
Happy Holidays to you and yours – I've read your books… waiting for the next?
Happy Birthday to Henry! I am loving every second of Hope being home for Christmas – even the cranky moments. 🙂
Happy Birthday to your son, Henry. Wishing you and your family all the best as you reunite for this special time of year, Katrina.
Lisa
Wow – what a beautiful reflection that you written. I could relate to it so well especially with regard to my oldest son, Ryan. Congratulations on this family milestone and thank you for sharing it with us in such a tender reflection.
Happy birthday, Henry! xoxox
Happy Birthday to your dear son — I feel like I know him from reading your book. He is a beautiful, unique, one-of-a-kind. Something about him reminds me of my 9-year-old son,Noah — I think because they both march to the beat of their own drummers. I worry so much about Noah — he's different from other kids in a lot of ways. But reading about your Henry, and how delightfully wonderful he is, gave me hope and peace that everything will turn out okay.
Happy Birhday Henry!!!
What a sweet post about your precious boy! I am thrilled that you will get to celebrate the holiday and his special birthday this week! Tell him Happy Birthday from me!
We had one due on Christmas day (our oldest) and it was such a sign of good will to me, since we'd lost our first baby to miscarriage at 12 weeks. I knew this baby would 'take' , when I found out she was due on the holiday that's all about new life.
Then we stayed home, by ourselves in a tiny apartment, waiting for labor to take over on Christmas Day. Not a twinge, however. We did puzzles and called family, but we hung tight, as did she.
Then New Years came and went. No baby. My huge belly led me to believe there was truly a person in there, but I guess the accommodations were too comfortable for her to leave.
Finally, on January 5th, after two full days of labor, all ten and a half pounds of her made it to the planet.
She's always been a great sleeper so I'm convinced she just overslept and missed her due date.
Happy Holidays to you, my friend. I'll think of you as we make our way through the back roads of NH….to Grandmother's house we go!
Judy
justonefoot.blogspot.com
I felt this in the heart and in the gut… Wow, (echoing Claire above). And tonight you may see the moon (in LA it is unlikely with rain unremitting) and there will be a solar eclipse as the winter solstice arrives (an event that hasn't coincided like this in 372 years). Perhaps a portent of all great wishes? Either way, wishing Henry, you and your family all the best Katrina.
HAppy Birthday to Henry, and Happy Motherhood day to Katrina!
Best thoughts to all of you from far-too-sunny Colorado!
Bruce, I finally have a website that allows me to reply to comments. So, of course, I am thrilled to be able to thank you here, at last, for being such a faithful reader and writer. Happy 2011 to you and yours.