Blame It On the Baby!

Yes, I'm blaming it on the baby.  It wasn't until he was born that I ran into this problem.  It's all his fault.  As my daughter labored to bring this baby boy into the world, I watched with misty eyes as my future unfolded before me.

I tend to be a realist (to some degree), though my husband calls me a pessimist.  Oh well.   I just remember that whenever anyone would say they wanted to live forever, I would roll my eyes and think, "What an idiot!"  No one can live forever, so what's the use in even wishing, much less uttering it?  One could possibly live until 112 or so, but those cases are rare and it seems the U.S. rate of longevity for women is about 81 years and for men, about 73 years.

I'm going to be 54 in a few weeks, so potentially I could have almost 30 more years ahead of me.  I guess that's a good thing.  But I would have been happy with twenty, just so I'm not disappointed.

But then here comes this beautiful boy.  Perfect in every way.  He's three months old now, settling down into himself, wanting to explore the world and hindered by his age.  For a while, I could hold him peacefully for hours while his mom slept, but by two months, he wanted no one but her to hold him.  That was okay.  I had time.

Now he's becoming more used to me taking care of him; my daughter and I have been experimenting with her shadowing me (but not letting him see her) for a couple of hours on certain days so that he will get used to me as a short-time caretaker for when she is with her sister-in-law while she gives birth.  I have to admit I am a little bit nervous with him.  My daughter knows exactly what to do when he gives a certain signal and I've yet to learn the code (again).  But she's patient with me.  And, thankfully, so is he.

So now, when I'm with him one-on-one feeding him or playing on the floor, we'll lock eyes and go so deep into each other.  I wonder what he is thinking about this face that kind of looks like his mother, but is not quite his mother.  Does he know what his birth has meant to our family?  Does he just look at me because he's not distracted by anything else?  I don't know.  It doesn't really matter.

All of a sudden things have changed.  Mortality, even with my mother's early death, never really affected me in any real sense.  Death is good as life is good.   But now, well, here is a reason for being around a very long time, to watch the growth and change and expansion into the world.  I don't know what the future holds for any of us.

But one thing I do know, for sure and with all my heart, is when he looks at me that way, I, too, want to live forever.