siblings

A few weeks after I gave birth to Jasper, I wrote this:jasper's b-day 002

I do it every night now. When it’s dark, when the rest of the house is asleep, or almost, I untangle my tiny newborn bundle from my arms and lay him down in his nest and ease my birth-battered body from our bed. I make my way – gingerly, gingerly – around the bed, supporting myself on furniture, against the walls, down the hallway, to her door.

I open it slowly, holding my breath against the creaks, and slip inside. There, in the dark, is she, my first baby. Rumpled and tangled in her blankets, her breathing slow and deep, strands of fluffy blonde hair stuck to her damp, pink cheeks, she is every inch the baby. A big baby, but still. A baby, my baby. In the quiet, in repose, she is no longer toddler, no longer little girl, no longer big sister – she is just she, my first born, my first baby, always a baby, always soft and vulnerable and in need of me, always in need of me.

I bend over the rail of her bed, and kiss her cheek, and stroke her hair and whisper nothing, everything, about how I love her so, how I adore her, how I miss her. How every nuzzle of her brother’s cheek brings a memory of her; how every clutch and suck and moment of skin pressed against newborn skin makes my heart burst for him and yearn for her; how my love for him has made my love for her grow and stretch and strain and ache.

How I love her, how I love her. Keep reading…

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You’ve Got Mail

January 10, 2009

From: Her Bad FatherTo: Her Bad MotherDate: Fri, Jan 9, 2009 at 1:59 PMSubject: Dude… … we’re done. xoxoxo

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Hush

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Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: I haven’t slept in days. Jasper is six months old. He doesn’t so much sleep at night as he does snooze and hang out between bouts of crying for mommy. He invariably ends up in bed with me, which is in some ways great, because he is [...]

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The Future By Thirds

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“What would you think,” my husband asked, “if I got a vasectomy?” I put down my magazine and stared out the window. “I think,” I said carefully, “that I wouldn’t know what to think.” “We’re done, though, right?” “I think so.” “But you don’t want to get pregnant again, right?” “I don’t want to be [...]

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Seconds

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In four weeks, give or take some days, I will give birth. To a baby. Another one. At this point in my first pregnancy, I was totally prepared for the arrival of the baby and for any and all potential natural disasters and had already moved on to alphabetizing the boxes of teas in the [...]

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Sprout

November 19, 2007

Finally, finally, some evidence – for my own eyes – that this pregnancy is more than just nausea and vomiting and unremitting fatigue. Proof that there’s a there in there, and that there is occupied: That’s Super Sprout, and from the way that he or she is kicking my ass, Sprout is going to have [...]

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