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Wednesday, February 10, 2010

For the record.

I recently realized the importance of holding on to memories. This may have come from the reality of how quickly time passes, how fleeting treasured moments really are. Sometimes I will be sitting with someone and feel the urge to say, "Remember when...?" Lately, I have been going back and trying to really copy in my subconscious the pivotal hours leading up to Olivia's arrival into the world.

I remember laboring on the birthing ball in the hospital room, only 1-2 cm dilated after hours of being there. I remember 48 hours into the induction, laying on the hospital bed so numb and so unaware of anything that was to come. Soon after, a doctor came and told us to prepare for a c-section. My first surgery, the complete opposite of the natural birth I had prepared for! I was so scared. I do not want to forget myself shaking as a nurse came in and started shaving me down there, or the sweet anesthesiologist trying to relax me with his reassuring words. Also seeing the pea for the first time, or waiting alone in a recovery room as Todd took her to meet my family and friends waiting so anxiously outside. How about trying to nurse her when I was in so much pain or sleepily realizing just how amazing my man is as I watched him so exhausted and worn out changing Olivia's diapers in the middle of the night when I was still recovering and could not stand.

There are also times before she even came along that I want to hold on to. When I used to work in public relations in a fancy high-rise downtown, driving to work in my new car that I bought for myself in super trendy outfits and a $5 latte in hand. Or the beginning of our romance, when we'd meet for chatty happy hours or just lay in the park as I tried to discover the depths of who we were. We would sleep in a twin bed together in a tiny apartment he lived in, it was always so cozy and perfect. We never needed more room since our limbs were always entwined and we fit perfectly. I recall a truly nice memory of one of our last beach days before moving to foggy San Francisco. We hiked to get to Black's Beach and stopped to take a break. I was sitting on a cooler, in a bathing suit and feeling the sun toast my skin. We sat there on rocks with great friends, not a care in the world, drinking beers and listening to Devendra Banhart on iPod speakers. Our feet were dusty and our smiles effortless. What a great day, just as bright as my recollections of it.

And now I sit home in pajamas typing this, with a 3.5 month old cooing next to me. I look at her and now this is my universe. My clothes are no longer from important boutiques and that new car with its leather seats is chauffeuring another owner. Now my accessories are yoga pants and a baby carrier. My life is so full thanks to big toothless grins and a pair of large curious eyes.


currently listening to: Elliott Smith/XO

1 comment:

Eliska Bobeeska said...

Beautiful and perfect. It's so amazing how much one little person can change everything. One little person made from the Love of you and your man! That is how it's supposed to be =)I love to see girls grow into momas!