Six years ago Thursday, Mom and Dad hopped on a flight to Atlanta knowing only that my birthmother’s water had broken a week early. They were not yet parents. My fellow Pigs followed in my illustrious footsteps. I can only imagine the panic and excitement they felt while on that airplane.
Forget the question “What will our baby be like?” It must of been something more closely resembling: “What is any baby like? And can I really do this?” They had no experience with crying babies, or dirty diapers, or bottle feeding, or pacifiers, or anything, really. They were one hundred percent newbies. And when I was born, six years ago Friday, I was their newbie. And despite feeling that they were winning the lottery (which they did), and that I was the most beautiful baby in the entire world (which I am), they learned the ropes in a hotel room hundreds of miles away from any family. It must have been exhausting. I was exhausted just watching them. (One time, Mom woke from the briefest of naps, not completely awake yet, and started looking through her luggage, thinking she’d misplaced me. Meanwhile, I was snuggling in the next room with Dad, who had never seen Mom that sleep deprived before. He was a little scared, I think. We were both a little scared, to tell the truth.)
When we arrived in Colorado a few weeks later, we all realized a few things. First, that it really does take a village. Second, that once I came into the world, it didn’t matter where we were, as long as we were together, we were home. Sometimes home is messy and loud (and in the case of my infant self–stinky and sticky), but being there beats anywhere else.
Fast forward through the wonderful, barely controlled chaos of adding three more Pigs to our family–Pigs that I love and like–and you get me today. The most beautiful Emmett in the entire world. A happy, smart, funny, wildly imaginative boy. (Yes, I am tooting my own horn. Live with it.) Our celebration on Friday wasn’t huge. I got some new Frozen action figures and a Batman Lego set, but what was important were the people I was with and that they clearly and unabashedly love me (which they should).
Full disclosure: I am counting on quite the haul at my official birthday party at Pop-pops house this upcoming week. Because, come on, who doesn’t want a landslide of presents to commemorate the day they entered this life? I certainly do. And you should too.
Mom and Dad tell me all the time that they are so lucky to have a Pig like me. (Usually, the sentiment is delivered when they are sitting on me and tickling my feet.) But I am just as lucky to have a family like ours. Sometimes I grudgingly admit it, like when Mom has her face squished against mine and she’s repeating ‘I love you’ over and over again. Other times, I lean over completely unsolicited and give her a kiss on the cheek. Regardless, its true and we all know it.
Here’s to decades and decades more of that kind of joy,
E
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