a lot changed while mama and daddy were in the hospital with your baby brother. i knew it would. the older ones always shoot up when the new one emerges. so this is your new attire at breakfast. apparently only the baby should be wearing diapers.
three long days of poking and prodding were more than enough for us. although this place is important and i am thankful to all of the nurses and doctors who placed you in mama and daddy’s arms, i am eager to move on and show you a place of even greater significance. it is the place where your story will take place. i can’t wait to write you into the story right next to your brother and sisters. today we take you home.
On October 18th, my daughter was born and I became the mother of three children. Hundreds of miles away, on the same day, another baby girl was born and another woman added the third child to her family. We were complete strangers at that time, but our love of photography and family brought us together. We started to have a conversation about motherhood with images, because we tell stories with our cameras. Since some tales are so similar, and some are not, we decided to collaborate and share a photo a week from a normal day as a mother to three.
“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.” – Mary Jean Irion
tomorrow is your birthday. i haven’t had the opportunity to give that as much thought as i would like. i know i haven’t been there for you like you have wanted or needed during these past several months. this breaks my heart. i want you to know that even though i have been distracted, i have never stopped noticing how wondrous you are. the leap between six and seven is a huge one. not only have you gotten taller, smarter, sassier, but you have become kinder. a couple days ago, i let you open one early present. just one. your brother and sister sat quietly watching as you tore through the paper. then all of a sudden you stopped, looked at them, and asked if they would each take a turn ripping some of the paper off. as they tore, you cheered them on. i know i tell you this often, but i want to say it again. you made me a mama and i feel so thankful for this. and each day i get to spend loving you is the sweetest gift.
photo by Heather Robinson blog | Facebook
On her own, she took off from me, to join the big kids and run wild. I’ll admit, I lost her at first, then found her and never took my eyes off of her. When the boys made a “base” at the back of the barn, she insisted on storming their camp. I watched them gather around and laugh and call out, “A baby is getting in!” But no one would stop her, which was so incredible to see; these boys with such sweet hearts. Besides, I don’t think they could’ve stopped her even if they wanted to.
photo by Olivia Gatti website | Facebook
“But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive:
for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts;
and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been,
is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life,
and rest in unvisited tombs.”
– George Eliot, Middlemarch
Heather Robinson
“But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive:
for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts;
and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been,
is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life,
and rest in unvisited tombs.”
– George Eliot, Middlemarch
Heather Robinson
Amanda Voelker