Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Yesterday my first baby turned three. I can't quite remember the tiny dollop Lu was when the midwife first placed her in my arms but I remember that I recognised her immediately, because she was formed from a piece of my heart, much as Eve came from the rib of Adam. I had no expectations of how she would be but I knew when I held her that Lucy was exactly what we desired, even if we didn't know what that was; she was the perfect fit for our family though we had no plans about how we would manage the jigsaw.
But even as I recognised her, I couldn't possibly have foreseen what she has become. How could we know that she would be so remarkable and challenging and divine? That she would correct my pronunciation of dinosaur names, look at pictures of tornadoes on Flickr, sing when no-one is noticing but never ever dance. I would never have imagined the Lu would love a very few people, and love them with unwavering passion and loyalty; that she would spend hours in her head, dragging us along behind as Mummy raptor and Skippy and Fireman Sam and Daddy Wolf and puppy Nell and a dozen other characters. I didn't know she would climb rocks; wake up crying because she forgot to dream; argue the point; paint storms; love roses. When someone looks at her she stares back unsmiling, unwavering. She won't walk when she can skip or run or gallop like a horse. She owns the space she moves through; she rarely wears clothes, she likes to pee in the garden - who knew this is the person she'd become?
I've never understood why people want a girl. You don't get a girl, you get someone so unique, so unexpected, so utterly and completely themselves, there's not much connection to whatever it is we think a girl will be.
I wanted a child and I got a Lu, and she is exactly the right Lu for me.
Happy birthday, best Boo, love Mamma.