To my utterly delicious daughter,
Today is a special day. It is the day in which you have been on this Earth for seven months. As this day inched closer, the need for me to celebrate it became more clear. Six months was indeed a milestone and yet seven somehow seemed different. The word that kept coming to my mind was mystical.
As I stood in the shower this morning I kept thinking about the number seven. I lowered myself on the floor of the shower and leaned gently back to rest. I shifted my gaze towards the hot water streaming from the shiny showerhead. It dropped and sprayed and splashed quickly and deliberately on my body. It reminded me of tears…all the tears I’d cried in these seven months – many happy, many sad. I thought about how, at times, both the pain and joy were so deep that it seemed tears might bubble from every pore of my body. But in the shower, watching the water, I wasn’t sad. I thought about seven. I thought about the shape of the written numeral and it brought to mind two images; one of you laying on your side in your crib, legs stretched in an almost 90 degree angle. Like a sweet little 7. The other image was of you, awaiting to descend into my birth canal, with your legs dangling down. I don’t think you were to be born feet first, however, thinking of 7 this morning reminded me of you, in my belly, preparing to enter this world quite differently.
So I did a quick search on the internet about the number seven. My search resulted in very interesting, and validating, information about the mystical number seven:
“Number seven has profound and mystical undertones. It is the number of the mystics, a number that denotes wisdom, perfection, and completeness. It relates to spiritual development and is a number of self-expression. Number 7 has been regarded as the number of mystery and in sacred books, always signifies the mysterious and the spiritual force. Number seven specifies the blessings, the gifts of the spirit.”
Yes! You are my little mystic, my blessed gift from the spirit of this Earth. You are the wisdom, perfection, and completeness I have long yearned for. And mysterious you are indeed, from your surprising conception (you have always resided in my heart of hearts) to your mysterious birth, to the ways in which you gently nudge me along the spiritual path. It all makes sense to me, why the number 7 seemed so special.
I took a peek back into my pregnancy journal to compare your life at 7 months in utero. On May 4, 2005 I was reflecting on a recent appointment with Marinah: “My prenatal appointment on Sunday went great. I’ve gained about 22 lbs so far and I’m starting to feel every pound of it! Funny enough, my belly was measuring smaller than at last appointment, but neither Marinah and I are worried. Who knows!”. Alas, you, my little mystic, presented surprises to us at every prenatal appointment. Sometimes I miss the indelible closeness of pregnancy, of having you all to myself, of knowing you were right where you were meant to be. It was safe. You were with me everywhere and that small, but miraculous, fact changed my very outlook on life.
Of course, having you here now to physically touch and smell and kiss and hold is intensly satisfying. But I would be lying if I didn’t admit I sometimes wish we could instantly and secretly steal back into the womb, together, one being, sharing blood and nourishment and love…sharing that mystical and primal experience that is bestowed solely upon women/mothers. It is said that pregnancy creates such power within a woman that in some cultures it is the very reason pregnant women are not allowed to partake in certain rituals and celebrations…for fear that divine power will overtake and usurp the social authority of men.
Pregnancy and birth taught me that I was unlimited. And now that you are here, with us, babbling and banging toys together and smiling with every muscle in your eyes, my love for you remains limitless too. “Unlimited. Together we’re unlimited. Together we’ll be the greatest team there’s every been” – From “Wicked”.
At seven months, you are not interested in trying to crawl. It seems much more fun to just roll and roll and roll to get where you want to be. You gobble up homemade baby food, particularly sweet potatos, and truly enjoy the view in your new high chair. You gladly “Ride a little pony into town” on my knee and laugh every single time I get to the part that goes “…there’s a hole and you fall down!”. Sitting up on your soft giraffe mat, you will play cheerfully for 45 minutes at a time, always sure to keep me within your view. Did I mention that a few months ago you finally got over your extreme fear of and aversion to your carseat? Thank heavans! Our cars rides have resumed their leisurely feel and mostly you stare out the window or (GASP!) fall asleep. I used to be pretty jealous of those “fall asleep” carseat babies. Now, you too have joined the club and Mama’s quite content with your membership.
On the mornings in which I’m dreadfully drowsy, I plop you in your bouncy seat, binky and all, to watch Sesame Street, Oobi, or Dragon Tales. Like a compliant little girl, you allow me at least half and hour more sleep. Every now and then I hear you chit-chat with the cartoons about how you’ve managed to careen your binky halfway across the room in one fell spit!
One morning about a week ago, I scooped your pajama clad body, smiling half moon eyes and all, from the crib. We gazed at each other silently while I layed you down to change your diaper. And then gently, with such clarity and deliberateness, you said “Buh”. A new sound, deep from your belly. It hung divinely in the air. What did it mean? Nothing, I suppose, and yet it was glorious! You found that if you pursed your lips together first and blew, it was an even more unique introduction for your “Buh” sound. Your Grams thought it was hilarious that I recounted this story with such enthusiasm to her…”Mom, today she said ‘Buh’!”. She says it means that I am in tune with you. I think it means I am in love with the little bitty 7 month old creature you are and the way you make me completely giddy, renewed, and exausted all at once.
Kaia Marin, here’s to your seven magical, mystical, memorable, messy, and mah-velous months!