you think that pregnancy is an amazing? the miracle of birth is amazing? that the little baby bouncing on your knee smiling and lauging is amazing? well, yes it is. but today i am absolutely struck by the incredible fact of my son. i have managed to keep another human being alive and as healthy (as he could be) for over 6 years. holy crap. there were times where i had a hard time keeping myself alive, and now i claim that my greatest love is making and keeping another human being alive and happy and healthy.
i’m a mom.
only other moms will understand this. moms with only little babies to their names won’t quite understand it, but moms with young children will. moms with older children will smile their secret smiles and whisper in their heads “wait until that child grows up, then she’ll really know…” and moms with grandchildren- well, i can’t even comprehend that.
how on earth did that fat smiling little baby boy turn into the tall handsome little boy who is asleep in the top bunk of his bed right now? i just don’t get it. wasn’t it just yesterday i was changing his diapers?
all of this was brought to mind today while i was looking at E playing and laughing in my arms. someday i’ll look at her and wonder where that happy, sweet baby went. i’m not sure yet what will replace her, but she’s my child and i know it will be wonderful.
i always made a point during my pregnancies to think “someday i’m going to have a baby”. i couldn’t really imagine what it would be like, but i enjoyed sitting there for just a moment and stamping that second into my brain so i could take it out later and examine it, and remember just how unknown it all was.
there was a point during my pregnancy with K that i remember standing there with my hand on my belly thinking “someday i’m actually going to have a child…someday i will actually have a two year old child.” the thought was so foreign…i don’t remember much of my pregnancy with him, but i took that moment and stamped it in my memory so i would always have some perspective to draw on. now i don’t have that 2 year old anymore, i have that 6 year old. was he really small enough to fit in my tummy? did i really nurse him and change his diaper? i can’t imagine it anymore. looking back on his babyhood it feels like a really good book i just read. almost real enough to touch, but nothing but a projection of my imagination. what is real is the boy i play video games with. the boy who tells me he loves the little girl on his basketball team, and the boy who brings home drawings made just for me. that is real…but one day it will be just a memory. it will be another page in the book of my life. i look foward and think “someday i might have an 18 year old boy. someday, he might move out of the house”. but those are blank pages yet to be written, and i feel almost sad when i gaze at him now. i want to bottle up all these little moments so i can keep them forever. my memory isn’t very good and i know that 10 years from now all that i remember will be flawed.
i try to capture those moments with my daughter. i try to remember the softness of her skin, and the sparkle in her eyes when she smiles. i try to remember her chubby little cheeks, or the way her long little fingers feel when they’re wrapped around mine. i know it is all futile…i tried to bottle up the same moments with my son, and because i can’t recall them i know they are forever lost to me.
maybe that is why i want more children so badly? i just don’t want it to end. the sweet smiles, the absolute love and trust. the sleepless nights are hard, and it is so hard to watch them when they’re sick and know there’s nothing i can do but help ease their discomfort. when E morphs overnight into a little girl, and not just a baby (because i’m pretty sure it really does happen that sudden) i will be losing a part of life that i love. a part of life that i didn’t want to be without for many more years yet.
it’s like finding a hobby you really love- say bicycling, or fishing, or even cooking. then just stop doing it. do it everyday for five years straight, then never do it again. yeah, when you cycle you get hurt when you wreck, and it sucks, but it doesn’t stop you from loving the sport. sure, fishing is nasty and smelly but you love it. yeah, okay you burn shit sometimes and ruin good food, and it doesn’t always turn out right, but you love the creativity in cooking and it doesn’t stop you. that’s me and mommyhood. it’s what i love to do. sure, the shit stinks and the sleepless nights are hard, but the the idea of going without the sloppy kisses and sloppier pictures, never picking out a onesie because it’s just too cute or resting my cheek on a soft little head or cradling a little baby in my arms hurts.
but it’s also an idea that i just have to get used to. because (no, i’m not a complete moron) babies aren’t bicycles or fish or a gourmet meal. they’re human beings that shouldn’t be brought into the world just because “i want another one”. in reality, we can’t afford more children. in reality, i probably shouldn’t have more anyways for a number of reasons that ends with me going to therapy and popping happy pills. (which i’ve been lucky enough to avoid thusfar) i know that me not having more children is best. but i just can’t shake the desire. maybe my instincts are just too strong…after all, what is the one thing that all life on earth has in common? the need to reproduce. to multiply and continue the species. i’ve always been ruled by my emotions…maybe that’s just another symptom of being too close to my instincts.
whatever. i’m not sure where this is going, so i’m going to end it. 
hopefully the baby will be asleep soon, so i can sleep soon as well. if not, then i’ve got another book waiting in the wings to be started after i finish my current one.
hopefully the baby will be asleep soon, so i can sleep soon as well. if not, then i’ve got another book waiting in the wings to be started after i finish my current one. until next time.