On Tuesday, August 16, 2016 Andrew and I welcomed our little sunshine babe, our son, Poe Wilder Dawson, into the whole wide word. Three weeks early, Poe was born at 8:10pm, at 7 pounds, 8.9 ounces, 20 inches long. With a full head (and body’s) worth of thick dark hair, his daddy’s appetite, the cheekiest cheeks, and the most perfect soul, I couldn’t be more over the moon.
Poe is named for all four of his great grandfathers- his hebrew name, Tzvi Habibi (meaning: the dearest deer) for both of mine, the W in Wilder for Andrew’s grandfathers Winston and Francis Weyforth. I remember my grandfathers, Herbert and Habib, as scholars, proud doctors, men that unabashedly cared for their families, their communities, religion, and heritage. Incredible forces and also deeply caring men that Poe gets to carry through his spirit. When I reflect on Andrew and myself, I’m most drawn to our pseudo-eccentricities, how wildly impassioned we are about living, moving, thriving; about being part this greater world and creating positive, radiating energies to strengthen it. To Andrew’s innate creativity, irrepressible imagination and my wholly analytical; our honest happiness. Poe Wilder is our summation – a manifestation of us, of our bone deep love.
I love him, I love him, I love him.
for my memory and your back pocket: both of my guys are currently sound asleep. I just shaved my legs for the first time in months; the perks of having an abdomen.