Four

This morning when I woke up, I rolled over to face my little girl. She had slept with me the night before. She moved around a little bit, and drowsily opened her eyes the smallest bit. With a half- there grin, she raised her hand, forming her little fingers into the “I Love You” sign. I smiled, and whispered I loved her too. Soon, we were joined by Conner, then Maryn and finally Paul. We laughed at how we all had to squish to fit on the bed. But as I giggled and chatted with my kids in the still dim room, I started to think about how I had chosen very consciously, to make each of them part of my life. Sometimes, four seems like a lot. Other moments, like this one, it seems just right. As I looked at each of them, I remembered bits and pieces of the months I carried them inside of me. They were a little easier to control at that point for sure. But I can remember feeling kicks and rolls. Paul had sharp feet (at least that’s what it felt like), Maryn had an affinity for laying sideways, Conner was a bladder bouncer, and Ashlyn liked to kick straight down. I started to get to know them then, and the traits I saw in them before they were born, have translated quite nicely into their living breathing lives. And then I remember the first time I held each of them. I wasn’t the kind of mother who counted fingers and toes…I figured the doctor would have told me if some were missing and even if they were, what’s a few fingers or toes any way as long as the rest of the baby was okay? But I remember falling in love. Four distinct feelings of complete and total adoration coming right up with a heaping side of responsibility.

And then I realize that the past 15 years has been a blur. I haven’t been the type of parent I intended to be when I was 14, but then again those aspirations were a little lofty and, now I realize, totally unrealistic. And it’s okay. It’s a very different process then I thought it was, and differentiation requires flexibility. I think the important thing is that my children are alive, have clothing, and seem to be somewhat normal. Considering their parentage, I see this as an extremely worthy accomplishment on their part. And the beginning of success on mine. A success I anticipated all of my life, but didn’t expect to procure itself in quite the way it has or using the path it ended up taking. But a success by any other name, is still as sweet.

As all of this was whisping around in the early morning nothingness of my mind, they each, one at a time, kissed me, smiled and left.

And then I was alone.