Saturday, August 12, 2006

Empty Nest


Last weekend I went to a party where the infant set swarmed. At one point, there were 3 nursing babies on the sofa. I would have been there with them too, if Jackson weren't at home being cared for by his Uncle Bob and Auntie Melanie. And the day before, I saw 3 friends who are all due in the next 3 weeks. The week before, a couple I've mentored for years had a baby and two weeks prior Ian's best friend and his wife (the friend's wife, not Ian's wife) also had a baby. Babies all around. Pregnancies abound. All this activity has made me feel rather nostalgic. I'm suffering from a variation of empty nest syndrome.

It's kind of funny. When I was pregnant, most of the time I couldn't wait for Jackson to come out. Part of it was exasperation at the discomfort of the pregnant condition. In my third trimester, one of the women I work with would regularly ask me how I was feeling. I'd usually complain about the weight gain, the annoyance of Jackson's hiccups 5-6 times a day (and late at night), and the discomfort of his favorite position, with his foot shoved up against my last rib. And she would always beam and say, "Don't you love it? Isn't it all so dear?" Well, no, I thought. It was uncomfortable. And I wanted to know what he would be like. I was eagerly anticipating the opportunity to find out what he would be like.

But now my pregnancy is over. So I've been reminiscing with these new and expectant moms about the last and first few weeks of pregnancy. And I've realized that there are times when I miss aspects of being pregnant. Now that it's over, I realized that it was dear to enfold his entire being within mine, right next to my heart (literally). I remember watching him when he was first born and realizing that the cute little head tilt he would do when crying was the same head tilt that applied enough pressure to my bladder to make me go running. The little kick that he made against my bottom right rib is the same kick that he now uses to rock himself in his carseat. Now, as he was in utero, he's a mostly mellow kid, who only gets really fussy when he's hungry or sleepy. I'm realizing that he was giving me hints about his personality even before exiting that world for this one. And I marvel that there are people who are confident that life begins at birth rather than in utero. I marvel that he's the same person he was before he was born. I do miss the breathless anticipation of waiting to see how those in utero hints about personality will bear forth. But I am so thankful that I have the rest of my life to watch how what I see now, ex utero, blooms as he grows to manhood.

Clarice

4 comments:

Sandra Vahtel said...

Thank you for letting me hold your son for so long yesterday -- he's a joy. My arms still hurt, too!

TheNeedyMother said...

that's some awesome photoshop work there ... wait, it IS photoshop right?!

Anonymous said...

Beautiful, beautiful.

Makes me long for a baby -- after I'd already surrendered that dream to the past.

More so it reminds me of Romans 8, of the anticipation the world, and we, live in as we "wait eagerly for our adoption as sons [and daughters], the redemption of our bodies."

Miss you, woman!

Anonymous said...

How can THIS "empty nest" feeling be fixed? One thought comes to mind. How about filling the "nest" again???