When I was pregnant with Finn, James and I would often talk about which one of us he would look like. We would lay on the couch late at night and imagine whose eyes he would have. Whose toes and hands. When Finn was born I held him against my bare chest and looked at him and deep down felt I knew him. That was one of the first things I said to the slippery and new Finn, "I know you".
We had imagined him to be made up of different parts of us that all came together at once but this screaming baby was someone all his own.
Even still people stop and ask "who does he look like?" And I never know what to say. I don't see physical parts of either James or myself in Finnegan. But on some days when it is quiet in the afternoon I will see him with such determination to complete a task and I can see James in his eyes. I can see him thinking in his mind what the next step he will take will be and I know he gets that from his father. This gentle calmness that he uses to get something done. And then some days I will catch a glimpse of myself. In the morning when Finn wakes up and yells for me. He knows what he wants and he wants it. Now. He is ready and though his patience is wearing thin he is not crying. He is shouting for me. And when I walk into his room and kiss him good morning his face lights up with adventure and drama and I think- he is just like me.
I hope that he grows to be a calm mixture. His dad who is the moon and his mom who is the sun. His dad who is gentle, quiet, softly lit and his mom who is fiery, hot and burning sometimes.