DOCUMENTION OF LIFE

I finish off the last couple of sentences in Sidney's blog. Documenting the 6 ounces he has gained since his departure of the hospital. His increased sense of his surroundings, and even the hour spell he spent with his father and me late last night, wide awake and listening to us converse with him as he laid between us in our bed. Upon arrival home, a piece of paper was brought out with "Sidney's Schedule" written at the top. For the first two days at home, his feeding and sleeping habits were well documented.

My oldest two children have baby calendars that on specific dates, "first" stickers are proudly placed: First time baby rolled over, first time baby slept through the night, first time baby blinked, first time baby cried while changing of diaper, first time baby scratched his face with his tiny but sharp nails.

With the exception of documentation style, this baby is no different.

As i polished off the last sentence, i thought about his three older siblings. When was it documented that they solved a conflict on their own for the first time or when a word that was not heard before was explained to them. When was it documented that they finally have developed a taste for garlic or when they (maturely) spoke up for an injustice. Baby books last just so long and these generic stepping stones will soon be long lost and forgotten. We keep onto small art projects and report cards, and as a parent who loves to write, i have tried very hard to keep simple life steps well documented, but i have slipped. As i write about sidney's first doctors visit or how many visitors came to visit in a day, i will remember to talk about how Lucy just can't get enough of holding him in the rocking chair and how she has been displaced for 10 days to her brother's room because Grammie is sleeping in her bed. I will talk about Simon's transition as the older brother and how important it is for him to be recognized by both his parents as this child with the 'i am too cool for the world' attitude has an incredible fragile ego that needs to be loved just as much as this small addition and as I am carrying sidney around the house and monitoring my steps and behaviors, i will recognize my oldest son; my first born, who is trying admirably to be the oldest and most responsible of his siblings, and yet, he is still just 11....he is still my baby - forever and ever, he shall be the one for which i first held and kissed and promised my eternal love.

The documentation of life does not stop after the 5th birthday party or after the first hiccup or ingestion of solid food. it continues through each life moment, each small heart ache, each triumphant maneuver and each beat of the miraculous heart.

Today, I have given time to the documentation of life. thanks for listening.

"We're doing science!"

This morning I was able to get away for a few hours while my children stayed home, having the run of the house. 'School' was not necessarily a pressed subject as I kissed them on the foreheads, goodbye.

During my visit, I called home to check in. My middle child answered the call. "Perry is organizing the play room and Lucy and I are doing science! Right now, we are working with honey and toilet paper.." As he began to go into detail, i interrupted, "Actually, spare me the details, just tell me that everything is going okay?" And it was....all okay.

I came home to my two youngest, still in the bathroom, explaining their 'science experiment.'

"This one has coffee grounds, and this one has a milk dud in it and this one has glue, while this one has sparkly lotion in it and all of them have yellow and green food coloring." When i mentioned that we had spanish olives in the fridge, the middle child bolted.

Science??? All in the name of science (laugh).

This is the latest journal entry that I have written for this baby to be. I can only assume that one day, his wife might enjoy the effort (smile).

Hello Sidney:

Yes, I said, Sidney. This is your name. 37 weeks and we have called you by name. You have wrapped yourself within the gray matter of my soul and I cannot escape you…Sidney.

Racing thoughts compete for attention; all astray within the prominent thought of you…Sidney.

Days are not our own and we watch the clock intently, continuing the fury of advancement towards you; marking your existence with ambitious efforts. We are reaching for you, yearning for you and deciphering where we all fit within this interpretation of self….Sidney.

The countdown of days has been a bittersweet symphony and parallel to the crowded New York streets on the eve of the new year. As the ball drops and the seconds indicate finality, the clatter of sound increases, the clamor of activity amplifies, and the exhilaration of thoughts mounts to satisfied conclusion.

God has known you. He has known your name. He has known of your time. Within my flawed human realism, it has taken me much longer.

Today, I now call you by name…Sidney Hans Avenson.

I love you. Mom