One year ago today, at almost exactly this time, Aaron and I brought Matteas home from the birth center. It was overwhelmingly hot and muggy, just like today. I have all the doors and windows open, with fans in the bedroom windows blowing in the cool night air. I had a small sense that night of what Matteas would bring to my life, and a year later I can say that I severely underestimated the joy and peace that was born with our sweet little Matteas.
When I found out I was pregnant with Matteas, I wasn't overly pleased. I didn't bother getting terribly upset though, as I'd had a miscarriage two months before and figured that something beyond my control or scope of vision was at work. I struggled through crippling nausea, ate my way through the second trimester and then hoped and prayed for an early delivery in the sweltering weeks of the summer we packed up the Brier house and moved. Weeks away from my due date, we had yet to pick a name. Aaron hated everything, and nothing seemed to fit. Four days before he was born(but still four weeks before my due date) we were at Albert's birthday party. Anna's friend Ingrid, sweetly concerned that we couldn't find a name, marched into Anna's kitchen and pulled the Byzantine calendar off the fridge. This was extra-resourceful of Ingrid since she isn't Catholic. She began reading the names of the saints whose feast days were in the coming weeks, and, mispronouncing "Matthias"(which is Aaron's grandpa's last name) we had our name. "Matteas" is Portuguese for Matthew, meaning "gift of God."
From the very moment of his birth, when the midwife first placed his warm, wiggly little body on my chest, I felt overwhelmed by his sweetness. He laid there gurgling softly but not crying, slowly blinking his peaking little eyes trying to make sense of the world he suddenly found himself in. Even his actual delivery was peaceful and sweet, a long soak in a big tub on a beautiful August evening. When he was four days old, we took him to meet Albert and Anna. The first thing Anna said as she took him in her arms was "Tirzah, he's SO sweet!" I know lots of people say that about new babies, but it was especially true of Matteas. It is his most striking quality, and I have enjoyed absolutely every minute of his babyhood. Part of me is so excited to watch him grow and discover and learn about his world, but a small part of me is a little sad that the first chapter of his life is over. It was such a very good year with him and while I'm sure the years to come will be just as good, there is nothing quite like new baby sweetness, that complete and total helplessness. He will never need me again the way he needed me that first year and while I rejoice in his small independence for his sake, part of me is a little bit reluctant to let him go. But I know that holding on will hold him back, and refusing to acknowledge his growth won't actually keep him a baby. So happy birthday sweet Matteas; don't grow up too fast.
One year ago today, at almost exactly this time, Aaron and I brought Matteas home from the birth center. It was overwhelmingly hot and muggy, just like today. I have all the doors and windows open, with fans in the bedroom windows blowing in the cool night air. I had a small sense that night of what Matteas would bring to my life, and a year later I can say that I severely underestimated the joy and peace that was born with our sweet little Matteas.
When I found out I was pregnant with Matteas, I wasn't overly pleased. I didn't bother getting terribly upset though, as I'd had a miscarriage two months before and figured that something beyond my control or scope of vision was at work. I struggled through crippling nausea, ate my way through the second trimester and then hoped and prayed for an early delivery in the sweltering weeks of the summer we packed up the Brier house and moved. Weeks away from my due date, we had yet to pick a name. Aaron hated everything, and nothing seemed to fit. Four days before he was born(but still four weeks before my due date) we were at Albert's birthday party. Anna's friend Ingrid, sweetly concerned that we couldn't find a name, marched into Anna's kitchen and pulled the Byzantine calendar off the fridge. This was extra-resourceful of Ingrid since she isn't Catholic. She began reading the names of the saints whose feast days were in the coming weeks, and, mispronouncing "Matthias"(which is Aaron's grandpa's last name) we had our name. "Matteas" is Portuguese for Matthew, meaning "gift of God."
From the very moment of his birth, when the midwife first placed his warm, wiggly little body on my chest, I felt overwhelmed by his sweetness. He laid there gurgling softly but not crying, slowly blinking his peaking little eyes trying to make sense of the world he suddenly found himself in. Even his actual delivery was peaceful and sweet, a long soak in a big tub on a beautiful August evening. When he was four days old, we took him to meet Albert and Anna. The first thing Anna said as she took him in her arms was "Tirzah, he's SO sweet!" I know lots of people say that about new babies, but it was especially true of Matteas. It is his most striking quality, and I have enjoyed absolutely every minute of his babyhood. Part of me is so excited to watch him grow and discover and learn about his world, but a small part of me is a little sad that the first chapter of his life is over. It was such a very good year with him and while I'm sure the years to come will be just as good, there is nothing quite like new baby sweetness, that complete and total helplessness. He will never need me again the way he needed me that first year and while I rejoice in his small independence for his sake, part of me is a little bit reluctant to let him go. But I know that holding on will hold him back, and refusing to acknowledge his growth won't actually keep him a baby. So happy birthday sweet Matteas; don't grow up too fast.
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