Ok, I can use the whole "I'm a new mom" excuse and never get to this blog, leaving all 2 of you in suspension until Gwenivere goes off to college, but I'm gonna have to face the music some day and realize that I need a "me" moment, collect my thoughts--and disperse them all over cyber space. I guess that's one of the weird things about blogging. It's like, "Dear Diary... and the UNIVERSE". Anyway, I'm sure I'll get over the exposure and the draft soon enough.
So-- Gwen turned 11 weeks old today! Happy Weekday, bunkin! When I've had moments of sanity and sleep (which always go hand-in-hand) over these past two and a half months, I've been reflecting on this whole baby thing. It's all pretty amazing. Here's this nothing inside of you, except your own organs and bones and a mish-mash of squishy stuff, and then-- POOF!-- human being, right there, soul and all. AMAZING. Not only that, in a matter of 9 months (really, only months. I counted.), little Miss One-Cell, becomes a whole huge mini adult, receding hairline and all! Then, it's not as if they just stay there, no. They COME OUT. And God bless Mr. Epidural.
Having a baby has really been a blessing. You'd think it's fun enough just being pregnant. People going out of their way to care for you, asking how you're feeling; asking about the little bundle inside, "Is it a boy or a girl?" You get to wear cute tops especially made to show off your epitome-of-a-woman belly (two syllables there: SE-XY). You get to take work off for weeks and weeks and do absolutely nothing if you want. Screw laundry-- you're pregnant! You may as well walk around with a halo on your head because, yeah, you're special, and everybody knows it. And birth control, shmirth control. But the fun doesn't stop there. For 9 months of good times, you get a baby out of the deal! A real one! If you thought people ooh-ed and ahh-ed over you before, check you out with a newborn in your arms. That's money right there.
But all seriousness aside, I've always had my doubts about being a mom, but nobody ever told me about the superpowers that come with it!
SUPER HEARING - Not only can I hear my baby cry on the other side of walls and walls and a whole floor, I can hear her cry even when she's not crying.
SUPER SMELL - No, I don't have a heightened sense of smell, but rather less discriminating, which allows me to change a FUNKY diaper without so much as a flared nostril. And that's super.
SUPER EMPATHY - Baby cries. What does baby need?? Somehow, more times than naught, I JUST KNOW.
SUPER PATIENCE - Maybe not a super power I've fully exploited, but exploited it more than I probably ever have so far on my tour of the earth.
SUPER ENERGY - Still alive, aren't I?
SUPER FOOD - Who knew us mothers could completely sustain human life simply by whippin' out the boob? Amazing.
SUPER STRENGTH - Even my own very buff husband can't hold a little 13-pound baby for more than a minute without gawping. Who knew my own pea-shooters of arms were really pipes at heart?
Anyway, here's looking forward to the next 11 weeks, and whatever new super powers crop up...
Ha!
ReplyDeleteYou make me laugh. Because you are so right!!
I've always wondered why I could change my own kids' diapers but gag to the point of upheaval at the THOUGHT of changing any other diapers! Must be love.
I always marveled when I would show up at the church nursery (this was in the olden days when we went to a church where we HAD a nursery and we used it) and there was my little one, laying in a crib or crawling around on the floor.... Lots of noise and music. When I would greet the caretakers, I would always notice that my baby would pick out my voice in all that hubbub and look for me. "My sheep hear my voice...." May it ever be so.