Everest Arrives - Part III
We hadn't named our little guy yet and we wanted to get it figured out so we could send out an official announcement. At some point I'll explain his name in depth, but the short version is that I had been thinking of using Wright for a middle name for quite a while, and we were both pretty comfortable with Ephraim for the first name. Looking at him though, it just didn't fit quite right. We also thought that there weren't many good options for nicknames. Everest had come up a while back on our list of consideration - we really thought it fit him, and the short form of Ever felt right as well. I suppose the mountains out the window might have lent some inspiration.
We had been planning on having Amity come and meet him right before we all went home together, but now that he was here we realized we wanted her to be the first besides Kim and I to meet the new family member. Bob and Patti brought her to the hospital, and she was ecstatically happy when I went to get her, and then became even happier when the receptionist for the labor floor let her pick out a sticker.
When she got to the room, she was thrilled to see Kim. We pointed out the new baby to her, and at first she was confused and thought he was Simon, who was recently born to the Bonds, good friends of ours (in fact, as of the time of this writing, she's still calling him Simon as often as anything else). We talked with her a little more, and explained that his name was Everest - as soon as she said it we were even more sure that we loved the name, because it sounded adorable coming from her. We asked Ami if she wanted to hold him, and she immediately agreed.
We set her up in a big armchair with a pillow for support and put Ever on her lap. She was immediately smitten with him. She had a giant smile, and kept looking at him and up at us, and telling us how cute and sweet he was. After a bit we invited Kim's parents in (who Ami knows as Nana and Poppi) and she was immediately protective and told Poppi not to touch the baby. She had a hard time letting anyone else hold him, but that was quickly rectified when I took her across the hall, where they had a fridge stocked with Jello.
The rest of the day we had a great time seeing family and showing off the new little guy. That night, as we decided to try to get some sleep, I was thinking of how incredibly lucky we are, and how things could have been so, so different. We have a number of friends and people in our lives with very hard stories. We lost our first baby to miscarriage, and the outcome of Amity's birth hung on a few key moments. These times are incredibly joyful, but I think joy is nearer to sorrow than we sometimes think. You can't really grasp the full value of new life without simultaneously feeling the closeness of our mortality. I felt so surrounded with the love of our friends and family, and couldn't help but think of the people who were hurting, who have lost children and who far too often are struggling in silence. It seems that we'd rather share our joys with the world but carry our burdens alone.
I'm not sure why this struck me so much... it might be because some good friends that recently suffered this kind of loss took the time to congratulate us in the midst of their pain. It could be that I was preparing for a hard or complicated delivery and we got a pretty simple and happy one. I guess the real thing is that in this moment, it is clear to me that some things in life don't work out the way you think they should. I've been blessed far beyond what I deserve with a beautiful and happy family. People that are kinder, more giving, and more selfless than me have had to suffer losses that I can't imagine. For their sake, I hope that those of us that get the happy stories would understand what we have, and how easily it could be taken from us. It is hard when we are focusing on the logistic details of daily life to change our focus and entirely understand all that we have, but I will try my damnedest to never take any of this for granted.
What's the point of getting into all that melancholy reflection? I'm not really sure. This is the first part of Everest's story, which is a big part of my story, and these thoughts were something that felt important to me as I went to sleep the day my son was born. The beginning of his life has made me reflect on the many things that are wonderful, and some things that are difficult, within this human experience he's entering into. I'm already so thankful to have him as part of our lives, and look forward to seeing how the rest of his adventure will unfold.
Part I
Part II
Part III
We had been planning on having Amity come and meet him right before we all went home together, but now that he was here we realized we wanted her to be the first besides Kim and I to meet the new family member. Bob and Patti brought her to the hospital, and she was ecstatically happy when I went to get her, and then became even happier when the receptionist for the labor floor let her pick out a sticker.
When she got to the room, she was thrilled to see Kim. We pointed out the new baby to her, and at first she was confused and thought he was Simon, who was recently born to the Bonds, good friends of ours (in fact, as of the time of this writing, she's still calling him Simon as often as anything else). We talked with her a little more, and explained that his name was Everest - as soon as she said it we were even more sure that we loved the name, because it sounded adorable coming from her. We asked Ami if she wanted to hold him, and she immediately agreed.
We set her up in a big armchair with a pillow for support and put Ever on her lap. She was immediately smitten with him. She had a giant smile, and kept looking at him and up at us, and telling us how cute and sweet he was. After a bit we invited Kim's parents in (who Ami knows as Nana and Poppi) and she was immediately protective and told Poppi not to touch the baby. She had a hard time letting anyone else hold him, but that was quickly rectified when I took her across the hall, where they had a fridge stocked with Jello.
The rest of the day we had a great time seeing family and showing off the new little guy. That night, as we decided to try to get some sleep, I was thinking of how incredibly lucky we are, and how things could have been so, so different. We have a number of friends and people in our lives with very hard stories. We lost our first baby to miscarriage, and the outcome of Amity's birth hung on a few key moments. These times are incredibly joyful, but I think joy is nearer to sorrow than we sometimes think. You can't really grasp the full value of new life without simultaneously feeling the closeness of our mortality. I felt so surrounded with the love of our friends and family, and couldn't help but think of the people who were hurting, who have lost children and who far too often are struggling in silence. It seems that we'd rather share our joys with the world but carry our burdens alone.
I'm not sure why this struck me so much... it might be because some good friends that recently suffered this kind of loss took the time to congratulate us in the midst of their pain. It could be that I was preparing for a hard or complicated delivery and we got a pretty simple and happy one. I guess the real thing is that in this moment, it is clear to me that some things in life don't work out the way you think they should. I've been blessed far beyond what I deserve with a beautiful and happy family. People that are kinder, more giving, and more selfless than me have had to suffer losses that I can't imagine. For their sake, I hope that those of us that get the happy stories would understand what we have, and how easily it could be taken from us. It is hard when we are focusing on the logistic details of daily life to change our focus and entirely understand all that we have, but I will try my damnedest to never take any of this for granted.
What's the point of getting into all that melancholy reflection? I'm not really sure. This is the first part of Everest's story, which is a big part of my story, and these thoughts were something that felt important to me as I went to sleep the day my son was born. The beginning of his life has made me reflect on the many things that are wonderful, and some things that are difficult, within this human experience he's entering into. I'm already so thankful to have him as part of our lives, and look forward to seeing how the rest of his adventure will unfold.
Part I
Part II
Part III
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