Ch-ch-ch Changes

I'm taking a break from the birth stories, because...well, it was getting a little boring...I will update, but I realized it was getting a little laborious to type (ha, pregnancy joke...laborious...I have not lost my sense of English major humor, even despite my sleep deprived brain). Which reminds me, that when the doctor told me we'd do a C-section he said, "So, ultimately I'll do the work rather than you?" I love Dr. S. so I didn't remind him that recovery from major abdominal surgery is not a fun endeavor and is indeed work, and besides, at that point I was so, so in love with Dr. S. for allowing a C-section that I had no words to condemn him.

Life changes when you have a baby. People told me this when I was pregnant. I truly believed them. I did. But, I didn't realize HOW MUCH, how very much, life changes. For instance, even if I have the opportunity to sleep (i.e. weekends when R. is not teaching the next day) I always have "mom ears." I worry about every little thing (okay, this isn't all that different than before, but the worries have gotten more particular, instead of global warming and the future onset of leprosy I now worry about the baby getting too cold [and thus catching pneumonia or some other rare Northern Indiana disease named after an obscure physician who discovered it], and the baby not pooping in 24 hours [and thus having a bowel obstruction or chronic non-pooping disease], and the baby smiling at R. and my father before smiling at me or my mother [and thus responding to deep voices rather than higher pitched ones and, logically, having a hearing problem, or a psychological disorder whereby they hate, hate, hate women], and the baby sleeping at night for more than five hours [because, of course, the baby might have some unknown sleep disorder]. Seems my hypochondriacal nature has transposed itself into hypochondriasis of the infant (there's probably another term for that).

But there are those other sentimental changes. There is this being who I adore heart and soul. And he needs me. There is this baby who trusts me and relies on me. And I better not screw it up. There is this person whose future rests, in part, in what we do now as parents. And while I am not a hard-core Baby Einstein pusher or organic baby-food promoter, I better do my best by him. There is this child who carries my heart on his sleeve, for it has moved from my own body. And I better be open to who he becomes, and how I respond.

And...it must be said, that temporarily, it is as if all of the rest of life has stopped. And this has begun, this parenting gig. So, bear with me dear readers, for it will be more balanced in time. But for now, I post as Grayson's mommy.