*Originally published on my Wordpress blog 04.22.2020
Thirty five years ago this day I had no idea that what was doing to happen tomorrow was going to change me forever. To be sure, I SHOULD have known that l was going to change forever. I was, after all, nine and one half months pregnant (yes, 9 and 1/2) so I knew a baby was on the way. But it's one thing to know that you are expecting a baby and it's another thing to know exactly how that baby is going to change you.
I was about as ready as a woman could be to become a mother. I had been raised in a big family and was at home with babies and small kids. I wasn't worried about how to take care of a baby. Been there, done that. I had traveled quite a bit, I'd lived alone and in roommate settings, I had a couple of college degrees, and had worked professionally for seven years. I was in a strong marriage and had zero health issues. I was ready for this new role in life. Or so I thought....
And, really, I was ready. What I wasn't ready for was a wave of connection that I had never experienced before. Labor was induced early in the morning of April 23rd and Alexander's cry filled the room at 7:18 that evening. They had to sweep him away upon arrival but he was brought back to me within an hour. I remember being in that dim recovery room. Baby dad was out of the room at the moment and it was soft and quiet there. This tiny person was laying on my chest and his eyes blinked and made contact with my eyes. Remarkable.
Because we were waiting for the arrival of the family cradle, Alex spent his first few nights in a (very clean and well padded) laundry basket. I will never forget a certain moment on Alex's second full day of life. Baby dad was out and it was just Alex and me in our small 2 bedroom/1 bath home. He was asleep in the laundry basket next to the bed when I heard his cry. That's when it hit. I turned to this tiny human being, who was turning his head from side to side, clearly unsure of anything. I heard that bewildered voice and I knew he was looking for me. He needed me. I was his lifeline. And - here's the clincher - I knew in that instant that I was forever connected to this person. I knew that he would always and forever be a part of me. His joy and laughter would be my joy and laughter; his pain and tears would be my pain and tears. He would be a tiny baby and a small boy and a teenager and someday he'd leave to live his own life but I would always be linked to him. This intense connection was nothing like any connection I had ever known. I suspect it's a biological phenomenon. Those pregnancy hormones are powerful and they are there for a reason. The species could not have come this far if that intense bonding wasn't present from the beginning. I just wasn't prepared for the strength of the bond.
That was thirty five years ago. The baby has grown into a kind, responsible, creative, smart, thoughtful, and delightful man. He is married now and looking forward to parenthood himself. Certainly my job as a parent is done but that doesn't mean that powerful connection is gone. It struck me quite strongly with Alex, our first child, but I felt echoes of it when, two years later, we brought his sister Meg home. I think the self to self connection inherent in the parent-child bond is unique to that relationship. Certainly there are wonderful bonds in all sorts of relationships - romantic, sibling, friendship, mentor-mentee - but this (from birth) kind of dependent -nurturing relationship is its own game. I am grateful that I got to play in that game twice in my life.
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