I wrote this on the plane from Minneapolis to Portland, last Wednesday morning. And I’ll preface this by saying that the Tuesday night prior was an emotional one for me – in a good way, but you know. ALL of the feelings.
Something happened to me on Tuesday night. I’d arrived in Minnesota a week ago, fresh off the red-eye flight from Portland, and spent the last three days of my sister’s pregnancy with her, shopping, sharing lunch in St. Paul, and talking about what to do when Baby arrived. On Friday morning (two days past her 4/27 due date), I took her to an unplanned doctor’s appointment because of pain in her side that the doctors later determined was a kidney stone. I KNOW, RIGHT?
Ouch.
By mid-afternoon, she was induced, and at 11:59pm on Friday, April 29, 2011, my little niece Natalie was born.
In that moment, in the moment my mom told me about her birth early the next morning, in the moment I first held her, and in the moment I said goodbye a week later, something subtle – but a little bit magical – happened. My worldview shifted ever-so-slightly. It was like I recognized that this was a pivotal moment in my own life, as well as my family’s, and I was watching it unfold.
No, this isn’t a post about baby fever. I’m still loving my not-a-parent lifestyle and intend to keep it that way for awhile.
This is about something else, some sort of other transition. I was choked up when I left my sister’s house on Tuesday night that I had a hard time calling back “I love you, too!” or “goodbye” as I let myself out the garage door. Tears welled up in my eyes as I called Chris (my emotional ROCK, always, and last week – often), and told him how I was feeling about leaving my niece for the first time.
I walked back into my parents’ house that night, still a little choked up and hyper-feeling. It was my last night in town after a week filled with family time, catching up one-on-one with some great girlfriends of mine, and the celebration of the newest (CUTEST) family member.
Since I’d miss celebrating my birthday with my family by a day, we toasted that night with champagne and cards together when I got home. Sweet, sweet cards, a completely new framework about what a birth day even means, and totally high off of hours of sister time and niece cuddles I’d just had, I was an absolute puddle of emotions as we toasted to my 28th year, to our new roles and titles as family members, and to a totally new understanding of and appreciation for my own relationship with my mother. After watching my sister transition into that role, it’s like something clicked. So, THAT is what motherhood looks like.
True-to-Hallmark form, I cried when I read my cards from her and my dad, overwhelmingly grateful for them, for the time I got to spend with my sister in the last few days of her pregnancy, and for the foresight to even get home before her due date.
Never before has the definition of family – the one you’re born into and the one you find and create for yourself – been so crystal clear and important to me as it was last week. Relationships with old and loving friends that pick up right where they left off – these matter. My sweet, loving boyfriend who is also my partner and companion and rock and inspiration who I missed like crazy last week – this matters. My sister, this relationship that has been so important to me over the years and is growing now from little sister to little sister who has a DAUGHTER.
My friend Stephanie and I had a conversation over a Pinot Noir and great appetizers last week. We’ve been friends since our junior year of college, and have seen each other and ourselves through some major life moments: Sunday morning hangovers. Working (bartending) together. Graduation. Falling in love. Falling out of love. Moving into Big Girl apartments. Career moves. Falling in love for real. Her wedding. Cohabitation. Part-time jobs. Family celebrations (BOOJAH!). Funerals of family and friends. All kinds of things. And we came to this conclusion: every year, life just keeps getting better.
Life. Adulthood. The definition of family. Transitions. Mid-twenties. Late-twenties. It all just keeps getting better.
That idea, a new way of looking at the meaning of family, and overwhelming gratitude for the people my life is full of – that hit me all at once in a total hyper-feeling sort of way last week. And I relished every second of it, because I am so, so lucky.
I like the feelings. All of the feelings.
