Monday, February 1, 2010

My dream baby

Dear August,
You're 8 months old and I'm just now getting around to writing your first letter. I believe that's when I wrote your brother's, too — so don't feel jilted for being the second born. If you ever become the middle child, you may wallow in the short shrift as I did. For the record, my parents would categorically deny any disrespect toward their middle child, but middle children always seem to find something wrong with, well, not being the oldest or youngest. Don't worry, I'm crazy obsessed with you and will do all I can to show that my love is immeasurable. You'll tire of the camera lens always six inches from your face, I'm sure.


The first time I saw you wasn't when a surprise 10-pound baby was placed in my arms. I saw you first in a dream. I wasn't even pregnant yet, but there you were. Liam was holding a smaller boy's hand. He had brown hair and bright eyes. Liam called the boy Gus. I told your dad about the dream, and we forgot about it for a while. When we did find out I was pregnant again, we didn't want to know the gender. Everyone surmised you were definitely going to be a girl. I dubbed you Baby G. Many thought I did this because I had mother's intuition that we'd be buying pink bedding in the near future. At first, I thought you could be a girl, but that inkling faded. I know now that I called you Baby G because of the wayward dream. You were our little Gus. We talked about the dream and decided that if you were a boy, we'd call you August with Gus being your nickname. What's more, you were conceived in August.


I never imagined it was possible to love another little creature as much as I loved my first baby. Your dad worried that he wouldn't have enough love for another child. We worried about how Liam would react to not being our entire world. We worried about the dog not warming up to you. Our worries were silly. You came into our life when we needed it most. You are such a happy baby. Your joy makes my worst days the best days. You have this delicious sweet breath. I often hold you real close, trying to catch it, seal it away in my memory. If anyone asks what I'm doing, I'll tell them I'm like the cat in the old wives' tale.

"No, he'll eat it!"
Liam was very patient with you when you were first born. He'd help me, want to hold you all the time. Now, he's learning that you, too, want to touch every toy you come in contact with, and he's all but had it. It's fun to watch as you descend on his racetrack or Hot Wheels cars while he rants and raves about their impending doom. He does like to give you kisses and hugs, and calls you either, Baby Brudder or Baby Augettzz.



You got your first tooth at 7 months, and now you're army crawling all over the house. Recently, we've caught you pulling yourself into a standing position. Your milestones are pretty consistent with your brother's, but you're different in so many ways. Liam has a vibrant personality that commands attention. He was flirting with strangers when he was your age. But you have a quietness about you. You're not a mute, in fact, you're quite vocal — that's not what I mean by quiet. It's your spirit. It's so unbelievably calm. You sing, too. My mom's best friend, Aunt Lynne, prophesied that you'd have a song in your heart, so you're living up to God's plan in that sense.


GusGus, Choonka Bear and Bright Eyes are some of our favorite monikers for you. We love you so much, August. In a cynical world, it's refreshing to know that dreams do come true.

Love,
Mama

2 comments:

Grammie said...

He is so cute. I tell the girls I love them the same, but differently, if that makes sense.

Missy said...

You have my vote for best blog post in history :)
Beautiful note to August!

My grandpa had a dream about Maz and Remy before I was pregnant with either of them. In fact he even dreamt Remy would be a blondie.