There are epochs in everyone's life. Today I am privileged to announce that there has been a new epoch in my life! I have met, for the first time, my newest brother, Levi Scott Heffington. :) He is dashingly handsome in a chunky-monkey way. All sweetness.
His dear little cry is not in the least querulous, rather it takes after the purr of a disconsolate kitten. Such a baby! Fat as butter and sweet as pie. :)
*happiest of happy sighs*.
I knew that I must write something to commemorate the day, and I was not in a poetic mood. One cannot force a poem, they grow. Or at least, is my limited experience. So I quickly laid aside the idea. And then I began to think of writing Levi his own introduction. When he grows he will not, of course, remember his very first birthday, so I thought, why not write his memoirs for him? And that is what I did. So without further ado:
I am Levi
A memoir executed by Rachel Heffington, but dedicated and imagined for her dear babiest brother, Levi.
"I am Levi. Or so They call me. I began my life under the most auspicious of dates on the calender. August 6th, to be exact, and a grand day, if the judgement of my family may be counted upon. I heard them discussing the trivial sensationalism of three children in one family born on the same day. It seems two of my sisters have already peopled this date with birthday celebrations, and I am by no means ill-pleased to join them.
My passage to this world was, perhaps, a deal less pleasant than I might have hoped, had I known to hope for anything. But it is no matter. My Dark Place had grown rather too small for me, or I too large for it, and I had not been truly comfortable for many days.
It seemed as soon as I positioned myself in an easy way, my mother would poke me into a less pleasant situation, and I took to kicking back, to let her know I was not so flexible as she seemed to think.
But I digress. My experiences have yet been only a few hours long, but those hours are a long span of time for one who has spent nine months in blissful, warm darkness. My introduction to my mother's world began with my first lesson, that of pain. My Dark Place squeezed me terribly hard, but I thought nothing of it at first. The squeezing would not stop long enough to let me catch my breath, and if crying would not have given me a galloping case of the hiccups, I would have done so immediately.
However, hiccups aside, there was no room to cry, and scarcely any space to breathe. The squeezing became nearly unbearable and I felt myself pushed downward, away from the quiet sweetness of my Dark Place. I wriggled then, but the force would not be resisted and with a sudden burst of pain, I left my Dark Place forever and entered into a new world.
How I wailed then! It was a rude awakening to one so long confined. Brilliant lights dazzled my eyes, strange hands grabbed me, and a quantity of noise beat upon my ears.
I wanted nothing more than to crawl back to my old life, my dark solitude at first. But strange to say, the next moment my lungs filled with good air--real air--and I heard a familiar voice calling my name. My mother!
The strange hands lifted me into my Mama's arms and I lay whimpering on her chest. The beating of her heart soon conducted my own into a steady rhythm. This was far kinder a feeling even then that of my comforting Dark Place. Before I even thought about it, Mama introduced me to the concept of nursing. I found it as natural and easy a thing as I could have wished to encounter in such a strange world as this. To lay on my mother's warm skin and smell her scent--for mothers do have scents no matter what everyone else thinks--and to nurse for as long as I liked, was purely blissful.
I had not long lain thus when I heard a door opening and a noisy crowd of people entered my world. Only the noise of this group was tender and loving, reminding me more of Dark Place than I had hoped. Why? Why was that?
But as soon as my father picked me up a single thought coursed through my milk-sated mind: This must be my family! Yes!
Though I deemed it more pleasant not to open my eyes so I would not invite the harsh light in, I recognized each voice from my old life. They were clearer and bolder in this world. Their voices had been rather muffled when I listened through the walls of my watery cradle, but they were the same.
During the next half-hour I was passed from one pair of arms to the next, all eight of my brothers and sisters among others, till I began to feel less like a proper baby and more like a ball. But I found these new acquaintances to be sweeter than I could have hoped. Indeed, the two oldest of my sisters felt so like Mama that I wanted to nurse again. They laughed over my vain attempts at satisfying myself with my fingers, and kissed me.
Fingers and toes had been the most amusing of playthings but a day ago. Why did they no longer give me satisfaction as they once did? And so I learned second lesson of my life. That of unfulfilled desire, though I could never have termed it thus.
I was already growing older though, for I now possessed a full hour's memory. The Dark Place seemed to grow dimmer and this new life pleasanter with each passing moment.
But my happiness did not last. Yet another pair of strange hands held me, and the voice spoke, not in comforting purrs and coos, but in vexed tones. I heard my fate debated: what was a shot anyway, and would Mama make me have once as the stranger thought I ought?
I mewed like a disconsolate kitten, to cast my vote, but they payed me no heed. The stranger took me to a bed with a hot light over it and pushed, prodded, pulled, and poked me with businesslike fingers. She did not stop there, but stuck something in a most incommodious place, announcing proudly, "98.4" after a moment.
I fussed then to let her know I had had enough, but she again ignored me and the next thing I knew, something sharp stuck me in the thigh. I wailed, hoping Mama would come help me leave this painful bed.
Kind arms cradled me once more and the pain faded away. I was reunited with Mama and fed my rumpled soul with the comfort of being near her.
When I awoke the friendly, noisy folk were gone. I opened one eyes and stared at the ceiling. A sunbeam danced along the plaster. I was too sleepy to indulge in a smile, but I was perfectly content. The sunbeam smiled for me and I found I had learned my third lesson:
August 6th was a fine day to be born."
Everybody say hello to my wee man! :) ~Rachel