Happy First Birthday Bridger!
When I woke up this morning, I had bits and pieces of a post in my head, reminiscing on the day of his birth, rainbows and sunshine. And I will get to that, but first...
He is certainly a second child. For Isabella's first birthday I baked her an apple pie from scratch, and knit her a hat. Bridger's cake was store-bought, and I FORGOT A FUCKING PRESENT FOR MY SON. I am a shitty mother.
Knowing that this is my last child has made this birthday hard - all of his firsts are my lasts.
All that being said, he did have a lovely day. We went to the beach.
My little surfer boy stood in the cold water, and tried to crawl out to sea.
All four of his grandparents came for cake, and he does love his drum and puppy (a toy one, not a canine).
And, I have nursed this child for a whole year, with no plans to stop anytime soon. I didn't get there with Isabella, and wanted so desperately to. Score for me. Score for him.
Bridger was born on a Monday. The remnants of Hurricane Ike were swirling by, but it was sunny and humid. I had had weeks of prodromal labor, and was thoroughly cooked. The turkey timer had popped for sure.
One day I will write out his birth story in full, but not now. His birth was amazing. Two hours from water breaking to his appearance. He was born at the North Shore Birth Center, in a tub. I remember how surreal I felt during the labor, like I (monkey mind) was looking at my animal self just DOING it. Labor was like being pounded by surf, but the water made it work, not hurt. I lifted my son to my chest, and he gave this tiny cough, and looked at me, and then we climbed out of the water together. Got to go home that afternoon, pure magic.
My sunny boy.
Happy Birthday little B.