Exactly two years ago, they wheeled me into the operating room to get you out of your cozy little bachelorette pad of the last 36 weeks. I didn’t tell anyone i was terrified that i wouldn’t be able to connect with you after you were born.
They kept you away from me in the NICU for 1.5 days and i hobbled with the aid of a walking stick to come take a peek at you through the window. I didn’t tell anyone i was aching with every fiber in my being to stroke your soft, pink, peachy cheeks.
They brought you to me and i stared at you unblinkingly for a full fifteen minutes. I didn’t tell anyone i thought you looked like a little frog and was gobsmacked at how much hair you had on your little face.
I took you home and all of a sudden, i felt like i was breastfeeding you every waking second of every single minute of every damn day. I didn’t tell anyone i was exhausted and that i hated my life and how i dreaded the ticking of the clock as it signaled the time for your next feed.
You started walking soon enough and one fine day as we entered the crowded shopping mall, you gently wriggled your tiny fingers out of my paranoid clutch and ran forward in excitement and glee at the sudden pair of wings your feet seem to have found. As i craned my neck to make sure you were within my sight, I didn’t tell anyone i secretly wondered if this incident was symbolic of our future relationship and if you would ever stop to turn around and scan the crowd to search for the face of your Mama.
It was your first birthday and all evening you were happily surrounded by uncles, aunts, grandparents, friends, distant relatives and neighborhood play mates. At one point during the evening, i noticed your eyes seeking me out from the crowd. Your shoulders were hunched in exhaustion from all the attention showered on you during the day. Our eyes met and you ran towards me with your arms outstretched. As i scooped you up into my arms and you buried your face into my neck, i didn’t tell anyone how i secretly (selfishly) hoped that i would always be the ‘only’ one you sought out, whenever life got complicated or overwhelming.
Now lo and behold! You are turning two tomorrow. I won’t tell anyone how terrified I am that people will find out that we are merely winging it as we go along. Do they know that we don’t have a clue? Do they know that the fact that you are a happy, loving, fair, jovial, naughty, spunky little child ‘might’ not actually have anything to do with how we are raising you?
This and lots more i don’t intend to tell anyone. Guess some thoughts are better left safely tucked away, in the farthest corners of a Mother’s heart.