Danielisms

Dear Daniel,
I write to you at the close of the thirteenth day of your life. I know better than to think we can possibly know all that much about your personality when you are only 13 days old, but some things are appearing that are not what the books predicted, and which I think are really your own. It may be that this is just your personality for a tiny little time in your life, but for now, we are really enjoying getting to know the you that you are right now.

You are teaching us about yourself and how to be your parents. We’ve learned that you are a cluster eater. They told us that in the hospital, but we did not understand. Now we get it. You eat for several hours at a time, with only short breaks in the midst of a feeding. Apparently, I was a cluster eater too, and my mother found it very irritating. Your dad and I love it in you because it makes for longer stretches of sleep. Hallelujah!

Speaking of sleep, you make wonderful faces while you sleep. I assume that much of the time you are exploring your face, but when you dream (we can tell when you’re dreaming because we see your eyes moving around under your eyelids) I love to see how you smile and open your mouth as if you are laughing, and then sometimes you look distraught, the way you look when you need to burp or when your diaper is dirty and before we get the problem solved. I see those faces and I know that if you were awake you’d be about to cry; but then the faces pass and my heart rate returns to normal. I know that social smiles are not possible for another few weeks, but I really have a hard time believing that the smiles don’t still mean that you are happy.

All in all, I’d say you are a pretty darned happy baby. You very rarely cry, and when you do, it’s always because of some fairly obvious need like needing food, changing, to burp, or someone is doing something to you that you don’t like. You don’t like it when the nurse at the doctor’s stretches you out to measure your length, for instance. You also used to really hate being naked, but that seems to be passing. It’s still not your favorite thing, but now you just make little distressed vocalizations, rather than out and out crying, and your dad figured out that if we turn the dryer on next to the changing table, you don’t even make those noises.

My father is here visiting us and most importantly, meeting you. My father is very impressed with your contemplative countenance. When he says this he is referring to your tai-chi movements. You still do those. Also, you keep your hands very open, with your fingers extended beautifully. You rarely close them into a fist, as the books told us you would do.

Last night, when we thought that you were sleeping, I glanced down at your body out-stretched on my lap. You had your hands placed lightly atop your knees in the zen mudra for meditation; with your palms up and knuckles down, thumbs floating in a relaxed cup shape over your palms. Your dad, my dad, and I each took turns placing our fingers in the space between your hands and sure enough, we could feel a little ball of warm energy there. My dad maintained that you had clearly been here before, and since you were in a Japanese meditation posture you had probably been Japanese. I am inclined to think we project too much, but if indeed you are as contemplative as you currently seem, you’ll share a great deal with your grandfather. I note that your dad commented how much you looked like my father the first time he saw you. You’ll also share a great deal with your dad.

These are just a few of our early observations about you. Even now we can see that you are both a product of your parents and a uniquely new being.

What we know thus far, we love and like about you. It’s hard to really know how much of you we’re actually seeing, and how much may be our own projections. We’re really trying to keep a pretty open mind about you though, and we’ll try to continue to try to be aware of the differences between the emerging you and our projections onto you as you grow up, because ultimately the little light inside of you is what we want to shine. We are stunned again and again that you chose our family to be a part of; and we feel so blessed.

Love,
Mom and Dad