Baby Love
By Colleen R. Lee
As I approach the third year of my fourth decade, I have come to the realization that very soon, I’m going to be too old to have another baby. For some reason, this fact has caused me to become obsessed with babies. I see them EVERYWHERE. That wouldn’t be so bad, but each time I see one, I start to cry. It’s starting to become embarrassing.
The worst episode was at my youngest daughter’s dance recital. The first three groups to perform were the tiny toddlers who were swathed head to toe in brightly colored tulle and had giant flowers perched on their heads, making them look like they just stepped off the pages of an Anne Geddes book. As I watched these chubby cherubs smiling, their tiny arms raised over their heads, trying to lift up a leg without falling over, tears were streaming down my face. No sooner would I dry my eyes, another group would toddle onto the stage and I’d start crying all over again. At one point, the littlest flower got scared and stood on the steps of the stage with her mother, and her four year old brother, kept pushing her back onto the stage. While my husband was cracking up, I was sobbing even harder. My husband just sadly shook his head at me – after thirteen years of marriage, he’s used to my strange idiosyncrasies.
I’m sure there’s a psychologist ready to jump in right about now, nodding sagely, and saying, “Oh, that’s just classic Blah, Blah, Blah, due to the fact that you are coming to the realization that soon your body will no longer be able to produce children. It’s a natural grieving process.” Do I want another baby? Absolutely NOT! BUT…there are days when I miss how little and dependent my kids were on me. I miss that soft baby smell, the soft hair at the nape of their neck. I miss the newness of their smiles – each one a precious jewel that out sparkled the sun. I miss those quiet times when my babies fell asleep in my arms and how my soul would be soothed and my world would be perfect. (Great, I can’t even write this paragraph without the tears starting again!)
This is where I have to mentally slap myself and say, “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? REMEMBER THE SLEEPLESS NIGHTS, THE LEAKY DIAPERS, THE NOISE, NOISE, NOISE, NOISE! REMEMBER THAT YOUR WALLS STILL HAVEN’T RECOVERED FROM THE CRAYON SCRIBBLING STAGE. YOU WOULD HAVE TO START CARRYING A DIAPER BAG AGAIN. YOU WOULD NEED TO REDO THE OFFICE AND TURN IT INTO A NURSERY. YOU WOULD NEVER, NEVER, NEVER BE ABLE TO LOSE THE BABY WEIGHT AT THE AGE OF 43! YOU WOULD HAVE TO GET ANOTHER MINI-VAN!”
Then I blow my nose and I’m fine…until I see another baby and a tiny voice in my head says, “Who cares? It would be worth it.”
First Printed in the July 2011 issue of Richmond Parents Monthly
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
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