Sat 4 Aug 2007
birthright
Posted by bon under coping stuff, mama-baby stuff
[34] Comments
i have been watching Oscar play with little boys these past few weeks. the majority of the babies he’s known and interacted with on any regular basis since his birth – among friends, at the sitter’s – have been girls, and most are within a month or two of his own age. but the summer and all the visitors have brought boys. slightly older boys, born in late 2004 or 2005, most of them. just slimming out past the toddler stage, words beginning to tumble from their mouths in complexities my own boy watches with wonder, and puzzlement.

Oscar seems to like these older creatures, these running, laughing, jumping, talking boys. he tries to emulate them, ranging further afield across the lawn as they do…studying their toys and their movements, trying to take some for his own. he is open and friendly, if sometimes oblivious to their rights of possession, but he’s surprised me with how willing he’s been to share with them, to offer them his treasures, his favourite books and bath squishies, to court their favour.

he looks up, and sees them, and he lights up. like a little brother. like the second-born boy he really is.

yesterday afternoon i watched him galumph across the backyard in pursuit of our racing godson, who was born the month i got pregnant with Finn back in 2004, in Korea, when we were all expats and new to the parenting journey, wondering whether diverging paths would bring us all back together to see those babies grow…their newborn, our newly announced baby-to-be. i was due today, this date, August 4th of that coming summer.
but Finn came and went in April, instead. only the following April did we take the next step in the journey, take a baby home and watch him grow.

so these older boys fascinate me, with their long legs and their words, and i wonder in spite of myself what Finn would look like now, if he would run and jump like they do, how he and Oscar would interact…Irish twins, only 51 weeks apart, in the alternate universe in which they both get to exist. and if Oscar would look up to him, and beam, and then swat the toy from his hands.

and just for a second, though i know better, i wish that Oscar got to be a little brother.




August 4th, 2007 at 6:28 pm
What cute kids! I love your description of Oscar running the yard with the other boys.
I’m sorry Finn isn’t there with you all, being the big brother.
August 4th, 2007 at 6:59 pm
I’m always imagining that alternate universe. It’s as if I can almost bring it into being by force of will alone.
August 4th, 2007 at 7:56 pm
Can not comment intellibly.
Too busy weeping and wondering about my Bug and your Finn.
August 4th, 2007 at 8:14 pm
He will always be a little brother. He will always think “I had a big brother once. His name was Finn. I love him.”
He will Bon. Help him learn to cherish the brother he’ll never know. I’m sure that you will.
August 4th, 2007 at 8:26 pm
As thordora said, you will teach him. And knowing you, you will do so with sensitivity, love, and wisdom.
August 4th, 2007 at 8:43 pm
I love both of your boys. And I don’t think I could help but wonder about that alternate universe.
August 4th, 2007 at 8:50 pm
so beautiful.
August 4th, 2007 at 9:08 pm
My alternate universe is so easy to see because Monkey is bursting to be the big sister, and you just have to look at her with smaller kids to know… And yet, it’s so freaking far away.
I’m sorry, Bon. I’m sorry you never got to watch Finn race the yard with the boys. It sucks.
August 4th, 2007 at 9:13 pm
I am with redneck, imagining Liam.. will always see a shadow next to Ben where another should be. But a comforting shadow, I think, a spirit-brother looking out for him, as Finn does for Oscar.
Thank you for this today, sweet bon.
August 4th, 2007 at 9:22 pm
Gorgeous. I put you up at Mommy Blog Roundup again. Best post I’ve read so far today.
August 4th, 2007 at 9:26 pm
i, too will wonder what Oscar would have been like as a little brother. and i will hurt a bit for you and for him, for that loss. And for Reds. And for Kate’s.
August 4th, 2007 at 11:11 pm
So sweet and touching.
August 4th, 2007 at 11:19 pm
You made me cry for you, Bon. Because my oldest is almost 3 and my youngest 19 months. They’re only 15 months apart and when you write about Oscar and Finn, I think of Hollis and Holden. And my heart aches for you.
August 5th, 2007 at 1:02 am
Sigh… I hear you. I will always wonder how it would have been for my Baby Girl to grow up with her big sister (and brother). She too is fascinated with older girls.
I like your alternate universe. That’s the way I think of it too, because I refuse to consider the possibility that if Molly and Joseph had lived, Baby Girl wouldn’t be here. In my heart, and in that alternate universe, I get to keep them all.
August 5th, 2007 at 3:02 am
Oh the bitter temptation of that alternate universe…but I agree with Thordora, he always will be a little brother, although I know he won’t be exactly in the way you want.
Beautiful post.
August 5th, 2007 at 11:36 am
I think about this a lot with the brother that I lost nearly 16 years ago…what would he be like now, would he be married/have kids? What kind of man would he be? He’d be 31 now, what would he look like? It’s a way for me to grasp on to his memory, lo these many years.
Tender connections, ones that are part of O’s birthright as well. Hugs to you.
August 5th, 2007 at 1:59 pm
Oh hug. My heart broke a little, reading this. I agree with the others. I can totally understand that you would ponder when you see boys at the could have been age.
Julie
Ravin’ Picture Maven
August 5th, 2007 at 2:31 pm
Oh, Bon. You have such a way with words.
Finn will always exist- he is part of your family, even though he’s not physically there with you.
I don’t know if I ever told you this, but I started out in life a twin, and while my twin never walked this earth, I often pause to think what life would have been like with her or him sharing each step of it with me. How different things could have been. While that brother or sister of mine has never been part of our family the way I, or my brother and sister have been, they’ve still been here with us. We know about him or her, we know that he or she was just as much as loved and wanted as we are. That soul is, I believe, still here with us. I might not have a twin here with me, but I still am a twin, and that makes all the difference. I hope that will make all the difference for Oscar and Finn too; Oscar will always be a little brother, even though Finn has never been able to share this world with him.
August 5th, 2007 at 4:54 pm
The what-might-have-beens are always tough to take. And in spite of our better judgment we think about them anyway.
Hugs to you, friend.
August 6th, 2007 at 2:15 am
I can’t think of anything good enough to say for this – my heart hurts for you, for your missing baby.
August 6th, 2007 at 12:18 pm
Finn will always be with you in spirit. I really believe that.
August 6th, 2007 at 3:12 pm
You always write so well.
I’m the oldest of 3 girls. I sometimes wish I had an older sibling to teach me the ways of the world.
August 6th, 2007 at 8:29 pm
I suppose I have nothing intelligent to add, but want you to know what a beautiful post this is.
August 7th, 2007 at 12:23 pm
It’s funny – I always wished that Bub had an older brother – it always seemed like such a great thing to have. And then when the Pie came along, she DID have a big brother, and IS the best possible thing for a child to have.
I can imagine how tangible that older-brother longing must be for you.
August 7th, 2007 at 7:24 pm
{{hug}}
he will always have a big brother, that sweetie of yours.
August 8th, 2007 at 1:22 am
I am so grateful that you write this stuff, bon, so grateful that you are sharing your alternate worlds with us. I feel privileged by your honesty. Just as much a I adore the photos of O, the photos of the boys, running around, living in the everyday juat as much as they cast long shadows into your heart.
August 8th, 2007 at 2:40 am
“like the second-born boy he really is.”
Bon, that line in particular touched me so.
What you’re doing right here is the greatest thing you can do for Finn, the greatest gift you can give Oscar.
August 8th, 2007 at 3:01 pm
good to be catching up with you after my absence. Loved your thoughts on blogher and female friendships. I have some fantastic female friends, but have yet to really make that connection in my new home town, and am really missing it.
And pictures of me, particuarly from my college days? ALWAYS the one with my mouth open. Sometimes from talking, but sometimes because apparently rather than smiling I would raise my eyebrows and open my mouth in a surprised and somewhat excitable expression. Why? I don’t know.
August 8th, 2007 at 3:36 pm
Hey bon,
I haven’t commented on this because sometimes your posts just take my words away–the level of feeling in them and the attention to small, heartfelt details.
I did want to thank you for your comment at my place. It was indeed helpful. I think I take the same stance as you in the end. I spread the rage out in small pockets with people I can trust AND I retreat just a wee bit with each new scar. As for that post you wrote in May about the customs officials, I remember it vividly. I remember its humour and righteous indignation and I remember thinking at the time that the woman who wrote it could be me–a more articulate me.
August 8th, 2007 at 4:31 pm
I can’t add anything.
It’s beautiful.
August 9th, 2007 at 3:24 am
I know someday, he will feel for that brother he once had.
August 9th, 2007 at 11:54 am
My boy is one of those running jumping, words tumbling out types. I wish he could meet yours. Both of them.
August 9th, 2007 at 6:38 pm
You write so beautifully about both your lovely boys. It’s important that you talk about Finn.
August 14th, 2007 at 9:00 pm
I miscarried my second child- it was devestating. I’m so sorry for your pain. Oscar will know Finn, and love him, the way that you write about Finn with such tenderness, how could he not?