None of us knows what happens before we become conscious on this earth. I will be the first to admit that I know very little about anything. All of the girls at my house, however, like to believe that we come from the same place to which we will return when we leave this earth. My little girls like to imagine that they were all friends in a different realm before they met on Earth as sisters. We like to collectively tell the story of how the three of them looked down from heaven where they were probably seated on a cloud and surveyed life on the earth below.
"Look," one of them says, "Those two are going to be our parents. They seem nice." The other two agree. Emma, being the dominant, adventurous type, decides that she should be the firstborn child in our family. We pause to reflect on what a stubborn, grouchy, and serious baby our beautiful Emma was, and she reminds me that she was obviously just missing the sisters that she left behind. (Babies start to forget about their heavenly origins around the age of one when they start to become verbal. You knew this already, I'm sure.)
Meanwhile up on the cloud, Sophie and Lili are left discussing what should happen next. Sophie feels like she is ready go and meet her Mom and Dad, and Lili does nothing to discourage her. "Won't you be lonely up here all by yourself?" Sophie asks her baby sister.
"I'll be fine," says the wisest sister of all, "You go ahead. I insist." Lili knows a secret that she keeps to herself. So less than two years later Sophia makes her peaceful entrance into the world. She is easygoing and lives in the moment, watching us all intently through her prodigious, baby blue eyes. She is, of course, adored by her parents and entertained endlessly by her big sister Emma. Sophie and Emma have their own secret "Na-na" language that only the two of them understand. Our family is full and happy and busy. We even take off to a different continent and have new adventures in other countries while the third sister sits up in heaven just watching and waiting.
Eventually (five and a half years later) we welcome Lilianna. She is received with warmth and affection and excitement. (Her parents weren't sure they would ever have a third child, but when Sophia enrolled in full-time primary school at the age of four, her mama started to ache for another baby at home.) Lili is showered with attention and wails insistently anytime she is not being held. Lili's sisters gaze lovingly at her and coo things like, "I just cannot believe that she is my baby sister!" She has two confident parents who know how to expertly soothe and care for infants. Her parents also know that she will very likely be the last baby they ever have, and they, without an ounce of guilt, spoil her rotten with unabashed love.
This was the secret that she held tightly under her tongue just a moment ago in that other realm where time does not even exist. Our clever Lili knew that the last girl to arrive would be the luckiest girl. She would have two adoring sisters to serve as playmates, cheerleaders, and caregivers as well as two smitten parents who knew from experience how fleeting childhood seems. We remember how her gut-wrenching newborn cries sounded much like repeated shrieks of, "Hoo-ray! Hoo-ray! Hoo-ray!" She was cheering the fact that things had turned out so perfectly for her.
When we tell this story, no one faults her for keeping her secret and relishing her treasured status as 'baby of the family'. We love that she reminds us of how sweet life can be when one expects and accepts love. Plus she is a little bit cute, and we enjoy mothering and sistering her. And one day, I truly believe, she will sleep in her own bed...
"Look," one of them says, "Those two are going to be our parents. They seem nice." The other two agree. Emma, being the dominant, adventurous type, decides that she should be the firstborn child in our family. We pause to reflect on what a stubborn, grouchy, and serious baby our beautiful Emma was, and she reminds me that she was obviously just missing the sisters that she left behind. (Babies start to forget about their heavenly origins around the age of one when they start to become verbal. You knew this already, I'm sure.)
Meanwhile up on the cloud, Sophie and Lili are left discussing what should happen next. Sophie feels like she is ready go and meet her Mom and Dad, and Lili does nothing to discourage her. "Won't you be lonely up here all by yourself?" Sophie asks her baby sister.
"I'll be fine," says the wisest sister of all, "You go ahead. I insist." Lili knows a secret that she keeps to herself. So less than two years later Sophia makes her peaceful entrance into the world. She is easygoing and lives in the moment, watching us all intently through her prodigious, baby blue eyes. She is, of course, adored by her parents and entertained endlessly by her big sister Emma. Sophie and Emma have their own secret "Na-na" language that only the two of them understand. Our family is full and happy and busy. We even take off to a different continent and have new adventures in other countries while the third sister sits up in heaven just watching and waiting.
Eventually (five and a half years later) we welcome Lilianna. She is received with warmth and affection and excitement. (Her parents weren't sure they would ever have a third child, but when Sophia enrolled in full-time primary school at the age of four, her mama started to ache for another baby at home.) Lili is showered with attention and wails insistently anytime she is not being held. Lili's sisters gaze lovingly at her and coo things like, "I just cannot believe that she is my baby sister!" She has two confident parents who know how to expertly soothe and care for infants. Her parents also know that she will very likely be the last baby they ever have, and they, without an ounce of guilt, spoil her rotten with unabashed love.
This was the secret that she held tightly under her tongue just a moment ago in that other realm where time does not even exist. Our clever Lili knew that the last girl to arrive would be the luckiest girl. She would have two adoring sisters to serve as playmates, cheerleaders, and caregivers as well as two smitten parents who knew from experience how fleeting childhood seems. We remember how her gut-wrenching newborn cries sounded much like repeated shrieks of, "Hoo-ray! Hoo-ray! Hoo-ray!" She was cheering the fact that things had turned out so perfectly for her.
When we tell this story, no one faults her for keeping her secret and relishing her treasured status as 'baby of the family'. We love that she reminds us of how sweet life can be when one expects and accepts love. Plus she is a little bit cute, and we enjoy mothering and sistering her. And one day, I truly believe, she will sleep in her own bed...
But for
now we will squeeze every last cuddle out of her. We will kiss the
world's softest cheeks anytime she allows it. We will read her stories,
make fools of ourselves trying to inspire her laughter, and bend the rules when
she asks for crackers in bed. We will also try to teach her some
manners along the way, but most importantly, we will show her how to love and be loved. In the end we realize that we are all very lucky girls.
3 comments:
Thanks for this beautiful story Meredith. I'm such a lucky girl too, to be freinds with you and your family. ~Allison
I love the way you love your children! You inspire me to make the choice to see good all around. Thank you, Jennifer
this has the makings of a great children's book in it (you know you were meant for it!)
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