Dear AJ4
Hi! I'm your Mater. You may remember me from such films as "Please stop kicking my uterus, I really need to sleep", and "If I have any more Zantac or Gaviscon I'm going to deliver chalk". And if that doesn't ring a bell, how about the bawling lady you met a few minutes after your birth? The one laying flat on her back, arms splayed out like the Messiah? The emotionally-exhausted, drug-filled woman who went though a miraculous yet commotion-filled event? Ah finally you recognize me.
Oh what a joy it was first meeting you. As I held you in my arms, I felt like the Queen of England. Figuratively and literally. And before you comment Pater, it is literally...
Once the drama of the OR receded and we got wheeled into our hospital room, you and I got to bond as Pater wrote emails, took photos and videos, and generally made a nuisance of himself. And then at four in the morning he left to go home, wake up AJ1 and AJ2 and tell them they had a new baby brother (and finally eat some of the feast Mater had made for our guests the previous day). Our hospital room was quiet. Your naked little pink body lay on me. Mater and son. What serenity! What bliss! What a wonderful thing strong painkillers are!
Mater knows you're our last Avocado Junior - something I can't quite come to terms with just yet. Gut wrenching. But as a result, maybe more than with your siblings, Mater is savoring and soaking in every moment, every hiccup, every gas induced smile, every sudden startle, every yawn, every finger curled around mine, and even every poop. Fine, that was overkill and blatantly untrue - Grandma Toronto can cherish those latter moments.
Why stop at four Avocado Juniors? Because not only are you perfect, AJ4, but our balance is now perfect. Yup we have the perfect recipe for a wonderful guacamole! 6 people fit around our kitchen table. 6 people fill the row of a normal sized plane (so AJ1 doesn't have to sit next to a weirdo like on our last flight). And, um...okay, so maybe Mater can't think of anything else that is good only with six people, and maybe Mater could probably have a dozen more Avocado Juniors but it's time for the avocados to ripen and move on to different and hopefully more exciting stages in life (like going to summer sleep-over-camp so that Mater and Pater can travel for 6 weeks each year. Oh sorry, too soon?) But that doesn't detract from the feeling of love and completeness that you have brought to our lives, AJ4.
And if you need any further proof, take a look at your siblings' reaction to first meeting you (but also, seriously, watch your back kiddo with AJ3 - he may love you a little too much)!
Within seconds the kisses were flowing and you became part of the tight-knit posse that Mater and Pater are lucky enough to call The Avocado Juniors.
Welcome to the guac, AJ4!
Love Mater
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