Sunday, December 11, 2011
Dear Tenacious E:
You've been in our family for a year now. In a way, it feels like you have always been here - or, rather, like the idea of you has been here so much longer than you have. I've been thinking of you as the exclamation point at the end of our family sentence, because you are all BIFF - BAM - and BLAMMO, but you are so much more than metaphorical punctuation.
You will know, eventually, the stories of the nameless brothers(?) and sisters (?) that paved your way here - how your father and I felt our family was complete with Monkeymoo and the Budge but then that Valentine's Day surprise in '09 stuck around just long enough for us to envision our family big enough for one more person. You'll know the long days to follow and how close we got to giving up - how if our family wasn't going to grow, we'd come to understand that that was okay too. One day I'll tell you the story of that positive test on the day after St. Patty's day - how my calendar that month said "Once More With Feeling" and how I walked out with a test with two pink lines and told your father and he replied "I think I have to go to the emergency room" because his appendix was ready to rupture. You didn't come from the auspicious beginnings of the EPT commercial - the smiling man and woman in a soft-glowing light and not anywhere near disgusting bathroom beaming over a stick with the sure knowledge that in nine short months they would be holding a baby. You came in joy and anxiety and frustration and fear and more joy and as the weeks passed and you grew it was more and more and more joy. The moment before you were born, I nearly passed out because I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe under the weight of our anxieties and hopes and dreams for you.
And now you are here and you are amazing and tenacious and sneaky and smart. Your father and I knew we would be outnumbered when you got here - but we underestimated the ramifications, the exhaustion, and the delight.
Thank you for rounding out our family. Thank you for grabbing my nose in the middle of the night and squealing "honk". And thank you for being all energy and elbows and wide-eyes and need. Most importantly, thank you for coming to us. We are so happy you are here.