ann kiemel

taylor is my first-born.

may 16, 1984.

as with my other birth mothers,

i visited robin in her hospital room

to remind her that she could change her

mind.  that we would do whatever we could

to help her.  that no matter HOW much we

longed for this beautiful, darling little boy,

we wanted God's best for him and robin.

 

two hours later, will and i walked in,

and with tears streaming down her face,

she wrapped him tighter with the little

blanket i had brought to bring him home in....

and then robin lifted him to me, and said,

"ann, i carried him just for you!"

 

the sun broke away from a cloud.

the earth glistened.  the flags waved.

the children sang.   the world

laughed and cheered and clapped.

and will and i took home the baby we had

so longed to have.  as with his brothers, we

drove away from the hospital 24 hours after

his birth.  the balloons painted the sky,

and God had finally, after so many losses, started

what we call 'family'.   laguna street. idaho falls, idaho.

 

the little town of idaho falls may not excite most              

people, but all four of our sons were born there.

for us, it is what you call a 'treasure'!

 

taylor jenkins anderson.

named after ken taylor of the Living Bible.

all our children have sur-names of great men we

longed for them to emulate.  being a first-born

is no easy journey for any baby.  as parents, we

all somehow believe we are going to do it better

and finer than anyone else.  taylor was the most

beautiful and brilliant baby the world had ever experienced.

 

though completely inexperienced in child-rearing,

will and i felt like pros.  we were going to do this right.

taylor would stand taller, be smarter, conquer every obstacle

in ways no other child had ever achieved.  the fact that

he was precocious made us look alot smarter at this

endeavor.  when he was seven, he was doing all of will's

payroll.  i shudder when i remember getting up one night

to check on the children, and found taylor's bed empty.

i found him in the basement with tears in his beautiful, blue

eyes.  "mommy, daddy is going to be upset with me.  no

matter what i try, i can't get daddy's payroll to balance."

 

that will would give a little boy such a task infuriated me,

but i smiled, and assured taylor that daddy would completely

understand, and he was coming back to bed with me.

 

i remembered that on a rainy friday morning, i had stopped to

drop taylor off at his first grade class, in a hurry to get everyone

else to day care on the only day i went into the office.

 

"mommy, will you walk in with me?"

"oh, honey, mommy is in such a hurry.  you can go in

by yourself.  you are a big boy, and i know you can do this." 

 

taylor was relentless.

he somehow could not face his class all my himself.

he was so sweet.  so unaware of his brilliance.  finally,

i turned the car off. locked the doors and took taylor's hand,

and approached his classroom door.  i suddenly noticed

that tears were streaming down his face.  until that moment,

i hadn't understood that this was a hard day for my child, and

i fell to the floor in the hall, and pulled him into my lap, and hugged

and kissed him and told him how sorry i was to not understand

better.  he began to wipe his tears away.

 

"mommy, are all my tears gone?"

i weep, as i am right now, every time i remember that morning.

how profoundly i loved my child.  i want to do that day all over

again, and get it right this time.  i don't think anyone should talk

about parenting unless they have a few years of it under their

belts.  i think with each new child, we become less demanding

of performance.  more relaxed.  not so worried about what

people are going to think of us and our children. 

  

story of taylor continued tomorrow.