To my youngest son on the 7th anniversary of your birth

Malcolm–

This year, you turned 7 on the 7th and we have noticed such a difference in you this year. We think back to your rather tumultuous entry into the world and how at every moment since, you have chosen your own path. You throw every bit of your being into whatever it is that you want to do and it shows.

Back to that tumultuous entry into the world. I’d gotten it into my head that I didn’t want a second c-section for you or for me and so I pushed and fought for a trial of labor. It was after about 26 hours of labor (including *just* a few hours of back labor since your nose was facing my spine that convinced me to get that epidural) that you came into the world through an emergency c-section with the cord wrapped around your arm and neck. We were so thankful then and now that you were are healthy despite that experience.

One of my most favorite memories of the first few days of your life is when we came home with you from the hospital on Mother’s Day in 2015. Liam had come to the hospital to meet you, but was still a little wary. As we walked into the house, you let everyone know that you were hungry and so I sat down on the couch and you latched on to nurse right away. Liam had continued to breastfeed during my pregnancy with you and so he immediately climbed onto the couch and latched on to nurse as well. After a few moments, Liam reached his little hand over and just started to pet your head.

I cried. It meant so much to me that your big brother accepted you, that tandem breastfeeding would be a way to knit you together as brothers from the beginning.

You are presently finishing up first grade and your educational path has been very different from your brother. While he tends to find the rules in order to follow them, you tend to find out the rules after you’ve run right over them. While you have bad days just like anyone else, it is a joy to see how wonderfully joyful you are, even while doing something you probably shouldn’t. We know that not every educator or babysitter or tutor or adult you are around are equipped to see past some of the shenanigans you bring to the table to who you really are — their loss. Your inner world is fascinating, you are fierce in protecting your friends and you love big.

A recent fond memory was on a Wednesday while driving you and your brother home from early release day and something happened that you found funny. We spent about 10 minutes or more in the car just belly laughing and trying to re-create the noise or word or whatever it was that was so funny. There’s really only one other person in our crazy family who inspires that much laughter and that is your Uncle Andrew, who you definitely take after in a lot of ways.

We have been incredibly blessed to have had the last seven (7) years with you. You complete our family in the best ways. As the extrovert in a family of introverts we know that you can get frustrated with the rest of us. At the same time, we see how much you pursue a relationship with your brother and how that can meet your needs and his in unique ways.

Malcolm, my love, you always love hard and go big. There is never a dull moment with you in our lives. Just don’t forget that the rest of us who are a bit slower or a bit less shiny might have some good input. Don’t forget that you have one brother and he will be the one to go the distance with you — appreciate his strengths and how he compliments you in so many ways.

Every day and every experience we get to have together as a family is such an amazing gift — we have learned to celebrate every day since tomorrow isn’t guaranteed; at the same time, it is my fondest wish to celebrate many more anniversaries of your birth in the future. Whether we are together or not, remember that you are deeply loved, that your very existence completes mine, and I will always be with you.

Love you to the moon and back,

Mom