8 years ago, Matt and I were heading back to the Brigham. We'd unexpectedly spent the day in South Boston at a friend's apartment because while I had been in labor since the night before, I was only 2 cm dilated. So it is the with first. A few hours later my water broke (over Matt's shoe), I labored until 4 a.m. and then the Russian doctor with the smiley face surgical mask came in to give me relief in the form of a syringe. 6 hours later, Turner literally came down the birth canal by himself and was ready for one final push. It was his instinct to be alive. This same fullness thrives in him 8 years later and the analogy has stayed with me like so many other lessons that my kids have given me. We are suppose to be here - it's in our most intrinsic self and reminds me how much is possible if we trust that.
8 years later we are celebrating all that we have found possible in each other and in what one day can hold. Costume changes, mood swings, new friends, old toys, a budding passion, lots of mistakes and apologies, and "two more minutes" for whatever we love on that day. Every moment holds part of us in it. Put the moments together and we see more of the whole than ever before.
Happy Birthday Turner! We love you so.
I've been a little slow on the posts this year - so here's a baby picture of each one. Can you guess who is who?
Happy Birthday Little Man!
