Yesterday Cody turned ten.
The big one zero.
The full two hands.
Every year, I go back and reread the first post I wrote about his birthday and every year it gives me chills. Those of you who have been with me awhile and have already read (and perhaps even re-read) it, I’m sorry for repeating myself. Those of you who have not read it, feel free to do so. It provides for you a picture of a moment that has shaped and continues to shape my life.
Cody’s birth was scary and traumatic and everything I did not want it to be. It was followed by many, many months of worry, of fear, of guilt, and loss – an emotional tearing within me. There were days when I was terrified that he would not live. And there were days when I was terrified he would. And the guilt that came with both.
The rawness and intense panic in which we lived, still resides within me. And if I allow myself to think on it, to really stop and take it in again, I am reduced to a throat tightening, eye-welling state; a precipice of panic.
And then I look at Cody, and I smile. I am in awe of him. He is kind and funny. He is inquisitive and quirky. He is everything I wanted him to be, and more.
Happy birthday to my sweet and wonderful child – happy birthday Cody!