The First Month for Emilia

The countdown continues to June 14, 2015, Emilia Caledonia Rhea Avanzino's first birthday...

What were we doing this time last year?  We were expecting a baby any day now, of course.  The days leading up your birth were harrowing to say the least, but as soon as you yelled your big "HEY!" to the world, we had yet to know the true meaning of "life turned upside down."  That first month - Baby Boot Camp, indeed - changed your mom and me.  You made us into parents.

It's common knowledge that new parents will be in for sleepless nights, piles of diapers, constant drool and spit-up wiping, and general personal havoc while they adjust to focus on the new life in their lives. Luckily, your mom had planned ahead (Oh Baby!) so that the trailer, all of your necessities, many of your possible wishes, and even our prospective schedules were in place before we even left for the hospital.  We really had it dialed up and were going to start right!  Then came a few unknowns.

Unknown #1: You would quickly became all there was.  I had no idea how centered on myself I was until you became totally reliant on me and your mom. All that mattered each day was whether you had pooped or peed and how frequently, how long you were feeding, and how long you could nap and where would be best for that?  Did that work?  How about this!  OOOOO this works well... oops not anymore.  To physically and emotionally center awareness around you is something I couldn't explain or fathom before you arrived, and still can't.

Unknown #2: Clocks cease to matter. Days literally become one series of events (most of them listed above) that seems to have no stop or pattern.  Following the move of a single grunting and helpless being becomes a required obsession, constantly trying to establish a routine, prognosticating about who you will become as a result of our decisions, then relaxing about that last part, deftly adjusting and adapting everything for you based on what just worked, falling asleep when possible and waking up on the cusp of REM sleep. Absolutely the most delirious I have ever been... drunk on baby.  It was the worst best craziest peaceful endless month of my existence.

If I could relive that month, I would again and again.  We lost our minds in you.  But that's love.  

Grunties

Grunties.  It's more than just a British word that's fun to say and has to do with what you may think it does.  It's also more than the chuckling middle of a Monty Python sketch involving silly people that you may have heard already.  Rather, "grunties" will always be Emilia's first phase of vocalizations for me, though they will never eclipse the great big HEY! she yelled to her Ma when first she made her appearance in this world.

Emilia, you made grunties, non-stop, starting shortly after you were born in the summer of '14. For us, that little esophageal burst of air accompanied with a even quieter noise, over and over and over again for weeks, became so ubiquitous we had to give you the nickname. We'd pick you up in your cocoon swaddle, and you'd turn into Grunties as your head swiveled to follow the moving scenery. We'd change your diaper, and Grunties emerged with each contortion we put you through.  Head on shoulder napping, lounging in bed eating, resting in the hammock under fruit trees, your every life move required a sound from Grunties.

This #14 is dedicated to your first summer, up there in good ol' Eureka, when, among the moving boxes and general stirring of our life, Grunties serenaded the horse pasture trailer as we prepared to depart it. You grunted outside while the trees waved at you and the sun danced through their branches.  Grunties joined the bird song and the sound of wind through pine, poplar and willow, and helped break the beautiful, long country silences.  Grunties will also always be the first new and exciting thing you did that we watched you grow out of.

I'm thankful you were born into a place and time where nature touched your senses more often than traffic or technology.  I'm also thankful you responded so gruntily.