There is space in time that begins in self and ends in motherhood. I remember so vividly the feeling of accepting my son’s presence in my thoughts. It didn’t begin with conception, though I know the exact moment that happened. I can recall my accepting the idea of having a baby as a possibility in my life. That night, making love with my husband, I felt no barriers any longer to the idea of ‘baby’. Afterwards, I knew. Though, as in anything new, I doubted it for a while. Even through the first couple weeks of maddening breast tenderness and all consuming fatigue, I still wouldn’t let myself believe it until I finally took the test…saw the magic pink line, telling me what I already knew.
It wasn’t even during the entire nine months of divine pregnancy. I know, most of you think I’m nutty for saying it but I simply adored being pregnant. For the first time ever I had a reason for being fat. My body had a purpose other than attracting men and getting me from point A to point B. I was in the process of bringing life into the world. Talk about an amazing experience! It doesn’t hurt that everyone you know loves to dote on you, talk about babies, baby stuff….baby everything! Okay, I could have done without the unending versions of the birth horror stories, but its all part of the sharing.
It happened when he was finally born. From that instant when they took him from my belly and held him near but infinitely far away while they cleaned him and stitched me up, I will never forget the feeling. It was as if someone else had invaded my mind. I was no longer alone….and I wasn’t entirely sure I liked the sensation! It was as if I needed to move myself over in my mind and allow room for this other entity…these all consuming thoughts of my son.
In the first couple weeks after he was born I felt my mind adjusting to this newfound duality. During this time I would wake up and sit bolt upright in bed…. “Where is he? Is he okay? Is he crying?” As soon as I saw him asleep in the bassinet I’d contentedly fall back to sleep. I felt as if my mind were not my own, my life was not my own. It took awhile to assimilate the understanding of what motherhood encompasses. But today I know that part of it is sharing your every thought with your thoughts of another and knowing that you are never alone.
It wasn’t even during the entire nine months of divine pregnancy. I know, most of you think I’m nutty for saying it but I simply adored being pregnant. For the first time ever I had a reason for being fat. My body had a purpose other than attracting men and getting me from point A to point B. I was in the process of bringing life into the world. Talk about an amazing experience! It doesn’t hurt that everyone you know loves to dote on you, talk about babies, baby stuff….baby everything! Okay, I could have done without the unending versions of the birth horror stories, but its all part of the sharing.
It happened when he was finally born. From that instant when they took him from my belly and held him near but infinitely far away while they cleaned him and stitched me up, I will never forget the feeling. It was as if someone else had invaded my mind. I was no longer alone….and I wasn’t entirely sure I liked the sensation! It was as if I needed to move myself over in my mind and allow room for this other entity…these all consuming thoughts of my son.
In the first couple weeks after he was born I felt my mind adjusting to this newfound duality. During this time I would wake up and sit bolt upright in bed…. “Where is he? Is he okay? Is he crying?” As soon as I saw him asleep in the bassinet I’d contentedly fall back to sleep. I felt as if my mind were not my own, my life was not my own. It took awhile to assimilate the understanding of what motherhood encompasses. But today I know that part of it is sharing your every thought with your thoughts of another and knowing that you are never alone.
No comments:
Post a Comment