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Three years ago, a little boy came into our lives. He decided to arrive a little earlier than planned and in between my waves of contractions, I remember Carl and I being told by doctors with kind eyes that he might need to be placed in the neo-natal unit after he was born. We held each other tight while I swayed and breathed through my labor and 12 hours later, Fin met the world: small but thankfully healthy enough to stay with us the whole week we were in the hospital for observation. The nurses commented how he looked like a doll with a perfect little face. He reminded me of a tiny bird with big eyes and an appetite that resembled a baby elephant more than a feathered friend. We couldn’t decide then who he looked like, but one thing was sure, he had taken a sizable chunk of our hearts and made them his.
Motherhood wasn’t a surge of instincts for me, it was a learning process where each day I questioned my decisions, feared for his well-being, and felt a pang of guilt when babies born the same time as him were bigger, stronger and developing quicker. But as the months continued and turned into years, this little boy has taught us, especially me, that milestones need to be reached at each person’s unique time. And it has been one of our greatest privileges to watch and guide this little human as he plots his own course.
Happy 3rd birthday, dearest Fin: our charmer, cautious adventurer, heart-holder and sunshine. Having you in our universe has made it a better place to be.
Photo by Carl in Sydney
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