Happy Birf Day Tomasso
Our boy is four today! I’ve been close to crying all day just thinking about it. I love watching my kids grow up. I never thought I’d be a mother, let alone enjoy the job, but I truly do. Tom’s face this morning when he opened his eyes was so sweet. I had whispered Happy Birthday to him, and the realization that the day was finally here was dawning on him. He opened his eyes and immediately grinned at me and I melted. We went downstairs to open all his cards and presents and I couldn’t help laughing at how excited he got when money fell out of cards. Kids are the same, no matter the era or place. He kept saying, “Wow, people must really KNOW that I am four years old now!”
He went to preschool and had a big fuss made of him (and was thrilled when they had a Happy Birthday poster on the door), and he also went for a special “Birthday Haircut” so he could look like a proper big boy. One of the highlights was when we picked up his cake and he saw it for the first time—it was just classic. He could barely contain himself. The cake was Transformers!! That made his day.
When we picked up Hadleigh from school, she ran up to him and hugged him, shouting, “Hi Birthday Boy”. If I had died at that moment, it would have been with a smile on my face. She wasn’t always happy to see him. In fact, four years ago today, her life changed—not for the better, according to her. She was pissed off from the moment we saw the ultrasound and discovered that the girl I was supposed to be carrying had a willy. She’s never made any secret of her disdain for him, but lately, the ice is thawing. Her greeting to him after school almost made me cry in public, which would be bad since I always try to maintain a cool veneer in public.
I spent a lot of time today just lost in my own thoughts and memories. I thought about the day that Tom was born, obviously, and how it was lonely giving birth in a foreign country, and how all I wanted was my Mum. I remember calling her the morning after I had been having contractions all night and wondering if they were for real. I think the conversation went something like this:
Me: Hi Mum
Mum: Hi Nat. Are you okay?
Me: Er, I’m not sure if, oh, hold on, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHGGHGHGHG, um, well, I think I might be in labour. *small sob*
Mum: How long have you been having contractions?
Me: I was having them all NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT, oh shit, this hurts, and *gripping chair* um, they’re starting to *grunting* really HUUUURT!! But I’m not sure if they’re REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAL, AAAAAAARGGHHH @#$%&*#$!!
Mum: You’d better call Aaron home from work right now, Nat, I’d say you’re in labour.
(Implied message: I love you Nat, but you’re a dozy cow).
Other highlights of Tom’s birth day include driving 20 miles to the hospital on bumpy Neapolitan roads, and being starving and having to watch Aaron eat a subway sandwich while he sat at the end of my bed and watched them put a catheter in places that I don’t want to even think about. It still freaks me out that he was able to eat while watching that. A really memorable part of it was, I have to say, falling in love with the anesthesiologist. I don’t remember his name or anything, but damn, he was good. I remember them telling me I was dilated to six and then thinking, “Jesus Christ, nobody’s giving me a medal when this shit’s over. I’d better get the drugs now before they tell me it’s too late”. Anyway, God bless that man with the needle, wherever he is. I hope he’s erased the memory of my sobbing, hysterical self.
I do remember worrying about Hadleigh, even though she was with some nice people. I wish that we could have had family there. It was just too risky to try and plan trans-atlantic plane tickets around my water breaking. Mum and Dad came to visit ten days later, and it made everything seem much more normal. Then it was as it should be—me, all chubby and with huge boobs (YAY!!), Hadleigh with her Grandparents adoring her, and Aaron and my Mum busy making me feel loved and happy. Oh, and Dad drinking wine. Aaaah, normalcy.
Now four years on, and this baby has grown up to amaze me every day. This weekend he said, “I think God is playing checkers with us. The earth is the checker board, and we’re the pieces”. How profound is that???
Happy Birthday Tom-Tom. I hope the world knows how lucky it is to have you in it.
PS) Here are both kids on their birthdays. I was just as mushy about Had's birthday, but I didn’t have my own personal blog to record the mush. Of course, the lack of evidence will convince Hadleigh once and for all that I love her brother more than I love her.
