Monday, January 30, 2012

In the Moment

I had my one and only child, a precious son, a few weeks before my forty-second birthday. We had tried everything to get pregnant - fertility drugs and treatments, old wives' magic, acupuncture, cough syrup, no cold food or beverages, no hot food or beverages, fertility talismans, prayer, etc.

And we finally gave up.

And then I was pregnant!

I had a challenging pregnancy and was on bed rest most of the time. Or at least I was supposed to be in bed, resting. But life happens so I didn't get a lot of bed rest. When I felt him kick for the first time, I was filled with surprise about how ticklish it felt and amazed at my joy over the sensation. It was the first time I really believed I was pregnant.

I was hospitalized three times before my actual delivery. I was so excited about seeing this magical being who had been moving (okay, kicking) inside me. The nurses noticed my excitement and mentioned that I couldn't stop smiling.

My son, Alejandro, was born on a hot summer's day via a C-section. I remember feeling very thick-headed from the drugs. I remember the room feeling surreal as I looked at this grey, screaming infant, quickly whisked away to be rubbed clean, measured, weighed and then wrapped up like a burrito. And I lay there, anxious and wondering, hoping, that he was mine.

Bringing him home felt strange. Della the Dog sniffed and welcomed him. He was this tiny, little, wiggling creature with big searching eyes taking in his new world. I was mesmerized. And took photo after photo of his every move. I printed out hundreds of photos and shared them with everyone I saw. Seriously, everyone I saw.

Until one day, I realized that by snapping photo after photo of him sleeping, eating, looking, breathing, all those things, that I was losing out on being there in the moment. I wasn't seeing him. Who he was at that moment. And just being there.

What a turning point. So, I scaled back on the photos. And just watched him. And breathed him. And licked him. And held him. And loved him. And I loved me, loving him.