I had to go for ‘THAT’ annual appointment this month. The one that we woman detest but consider a necessary addendum of our lives thanks to having female parts. While I was sitting in the office I noticed many women who were in the beginning stages of growing their family. Some of these women were pregnant with their first baby, some their second, third, fourth, fifth….and down the line to the Duggers. Some had their toddlers in tow bouncing on their growing bellies and some just waddled around solo. As I sat and observed these sights a flood of memories began to consume me.
I immediately went right back to the feeling of life in my growing abdomen and all of the physical changes you experience when pregnant. I remembered all of the time I spent in THAT office for THOSE appointments. I remembered the full throttle labor(s) and the months of labor, sleepless nights and tears afterward. While it may have been tempting to breathe a sigh of “whew, glad I’m past that – better you than me” relief, I found myself feeling emotional to the point of watery eyes (tears). Why? Is it because I am a sadomasichist who longs for sleepless nights, sex deprivation, pounds of human manure to clean, leaking boobs and having the alluring odor of spoiled milk? Uh, No. The tears were because life grows. Gone are the sleepless nights, sex deprivation, manure piles, leaking boobage and sour milk perfume but with them, gone also are my “babies”. I will never have that time back and although for sanity sake, it is a good thing that those years come to an end for us mothers, it is also bitter-sweet. I recall laughing at my mom when her spigots would turn on after looking at a baby picture of my brother or myself. “You just wait” was all she could say. Now I understand. I wouldn’t want to go back. I get that life moves forward but just knowing that I can never return to a minature Alexsia, Josh or Sam (and the fact that they will continue to become less and less minature) makes it that much more emotional.
I welcome these years ahead but can’t help but to take a walk down memory lane and “tear up” as I see the sweet smiling faces of my three beauties waving at me in all of their chubby baby glory.