I’ve always loved fireworks. I grew up near DC, and more years than not I spent July 4th there as an adult. I’m super patriotic, like most progressives, so I cry every year. On the night of July 4, 1998, you sprang into existence in Brookings, Oregon. At the time I was very happy; I was newly in love with your father, and working as a counselor for teenagers, in a beautiful Oregon coast town. I was fairly happy during your gestational period although your father did leave town in October. I’ll write about the circumstances around that another time.
That winter, I went to a conference in Eastern Oregon, and as I lived west of the Cascades (like I do now) I got to cross the mountains. The Cascades are beautiful any time of year. I bought a new CD for the trip, the Indigo Girls’ 1200 Curfews. I really loved “The Power of Two” and sang the chorus to you all the time, before and after you were born.
You see, I thought everything was going to be fine, I was enjoying my pregnancy. I had a good job, nice car, nice place to live on the freaking Oregon coast, and I was super excited to meet you. I was not at all bummed to be a single mother. I was going to take you to work with me, and my teens were looking forward to having a baby around. I sang to you, “So we’re okay. We’re fine. Baby, I’m here to stop your crying…”
The weather was nice going out (for me this means cloudy but not raining,) so I stopped at my favorite place, Cougar Hot Springs, for a quick dip. It was a weekday, so I had the place to myself. In later years this visit became my happy place. There’s a short hike off the road to reach it, going up and down into little valleys full of ferns. It was a bit foggy and misty, cool. I reached the changing area and quickly shucked my boots and clothes, hanging them on the hooks there. Then I picked my way over the rocks to the coolest pool (I was pregnant, after all) and settled in. Just as I relaxed and laid my head back, looking up into the evergreens, It. Began. To Snow. I could hear the sound of thousands of snowflakes hitting the trees and ground and the surface of the warm water. Years later I returned to this place, this feeling of serenity, again and again in my mind.
After soaking for a few minutes, I returned to my trip. Just as I pulled the car out and headed back toward the highway, I felt you move for the first time. I pulled over and stopped. It was the most amazing feeling. Before, you had been something of an abstraction, but here was incontrovertible truth: there was a tiny human being in my belly, soon to join us in this vale of tears. “Hello, baby,” I whispered to you, my hand on my tummy. “Hello. Please be a girl.” I swore to you that I would always take care of you, that you would know you were loved. I wanted you to have what I hadn’t had, your mother’s love. And that you have always had, whether you knew it or not.
This is an excerpt from a multimedia experience I’m creating for my daughter (if she reads it.) I would love your feedback and your support as I embark upon this emotionally difficult project. New! I made a Patreon, if you’d like to support me with a few dollars each month, I surely would appreciate it. Be the first and get a prize!