Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Six

Some mothers get emotional over certain milestone in their children's lives - first birthdays, first time they say mama, first steps, first day of school. You know, the times when most mothers get teary eyed at how their child is growing, developing.

Not me.

Not that I'm not emotional. Oh boy. Anyone who knows me knows that's not the case. No, I find other strange moments to get (a tiny bit) teary, to feel a catch in my breath of realization that my child is no longer a baby. Usually, it is the day when my baby turning toddler no longer prefers to cuddle, but instead race around like a madman, undoing all that I did. Or when I recieve a kiss, a hug, or an I love you, spontaneously, not asked for. Recently, it was a loose tooth in my four year old. The first loose tooth in our house, and it caught me off guard because it was not on the oldest. Today, it is the oldest child of my womb turning six.

Six. Why is six so surprising? Maybe it's because like yesterday I remember holding him, snug as a bug in a rug, in my arms, against my chest. Holding him the way only I can, only his mother.




His birth was marked by the fact that my water broke (the only one of my children I wasn't induced for) while we were still putting in new kitchen flooring, and it was three weeks early. I still had to have pitocin, though. He was posterior, which made it fairly painful (yay for back labor!) til my OB turned him (even more painful), but it helped him descend. And quickly. King Kong still makes fun of me for the "pah pah pah's" (a way of labor breathing) which were absolutely necessary when they told me to wait, not push. Worst. Torture. Ever. It was the only time my hubby cut the cord, the only one he cried for (I think), and probably the last time he volunteered to change a diaper. (And he changed all the black tar ones. I never got to see one until Koko was born.) One special boy.




Bane Wendell Berg
was born at 12:55 pm on December 6, 2003.
He weighed 6 lbs 8.5 oz, and was 19 1/2 inches long.

It was awesome. I loved childbirth (au natural, baby!). And I loved my firstborn child.

The funny thing is, this child was fair skinned and blond. We were expecting him to be dark haired, darker skinned. He looked like his daddy, alright, just not in color. Surprise! Boy was he a cute baby, though. (Everyone said so, I'm not just being biased. Really. I promise.)




I do have some sort of different, unexplainable love, or feelings, that are only reserved for this child, my firstborn. He's what made me a mother. Something I had waited a long time to become. He changed my world.

His name is unusual, and at least one of the grandparent's did their best to convince us to at least change the spelling. Nope. That was it. We found it on the internet, and instantly knew. From that point on there was no argument, no discussion. His name was found. It's strong and manly. It means "long awaited child" and "child of exhortation," and both are meanings suite him. From that day forward, he became the only Bane of my existence. And I couldn't have been happier.

Today he is a sweet, tenderhearted boy. He is very caring and gentle with his younger siblings, and loves babies. His imagination is very active, and he enjoys creating, building, drawing, and even playing "dress up." He is all boy, and loves anything and everything his daddy does. These days, he talks endlessly and to anyone who will listen about hunting, deer, and guns. (He used to be that way about remote control airplanes.) He has an amazing memory, and can tell you things about airplanes, guns, and tools that some grown men don't know. I am happy to report he still needs his mom, and even occasionally greets me enthusiastically with a hug when I pick him up from school. I know he'll outgrow that soon, but I'll get sappy about that another day.

Isn't he so handsome? Man I love this kid.

Happy Birthday, Baney-boo. Mommy and Daddy love you with all our heart!


1 comment:

  1. Happy Belated Birthday Bane... is sure is good looking! : )
    I have a son named DANE.. & believe me, the grandparents tried to talk us out of that too...
    Now there are Danes allover the place. : ) Great blog!

    ReplyDelete