From Boy to Man

So, today is my son's 13th birthday. Today is the day he steps into being a teenager. Today, by some cultures, he is a man. When I got to work today my mom sent me this message reflecting on his birth:

Wow! 13 years!
I remember:

Our trip up to the Continental Divide and you driving down, in labor, icy roads, yikes
You and Tom went to the movies while I waited at the cabin in case the baby came
The smell of chicken boiling while the midwife did her thing
The absolute joy of seeing Ben join us in this world
The cold, quiet, clear morning… sitting out on the deck
The very tiny, very precious little Ben snuggled up in the corner of the baby bed

We won’t mention some of the things like altitude sickness, migraine headaches, etc.

It got me to thinking... and evoked this response:

Crazy, huh?

It is so strange for me to reflect back on that time. I always felt so guilty that I didn't feel how I was "supposed" to feel about being pregnant, etc. I never had that giddy, maternal thing going on. I always felt bad about not "connecting" to that experience. It is strange how now, knowing what I know about myself, it all seems okay. I did a good job, a darn good job and somehow managed to stay present as a parent, even when I could barely be present with myself. Being pregnant seemed distant, even then. It was like an out of body experience, surreal in every way.

I am so grateful for the 13 years I have been blessed with Ben and the opportunity to bring him into the world and help grow him up into the person he is here to be. It is a little scary to have the job of teaching him to be a man, when I just barely ahead of him in the process. I guess at the end of the day, it is really about each person learning to be their own very best self. If my experiences have taught me anything, it is how to be true to myself and how to help others feel safe to be themselves. I think that puts me in a pretty good spot.

Thanks for all you have done to propel me down this path to self. I know sometimes you feel like you messed up. I know sometimes you regret things... but just know that you did a good job and I am grateful that you let me be a tom-boy (with perpetually skinned up knees and elbows, sweat dripping, dirt ground in and a soccer ball at my feet). That in and of itself saved my life, the life you gave me through your own sacrifice of body and soul. And each time you encourage me in my transition you give me life all over again.

Thank you.

We've come a long way, baby!

Your Loving and Ever Grateful Son,
-
Andrew