Friday, July 16, 2010

my son my son, my WONDERFUL son!

Shit. You have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about in this post if you don't have a baby. No seriously. No idea.
Carter. My Carter. Every day, I honestly find more and more reasons why I love him more than anybody has ever loved anybody or anything in all of history.
Sometimes, sometimes he will look at me in a very specific way. He looks at me like I am beautiful. I'm sure that's what he's thinking, too. But it is so plain on his face and it melts me to the very core of myself; and it makes me feel beautiful. More than any other person has ever made me feel. And it's just a look.
I can't describe this look. There is a very slight grin, and something in the eyes. Something. This look says "I think you're beautiful and you are the most important person ever."
Heavy shit, isn't it?
Because to him I am the most important person ever!
I've always wanted to have that effect on a man.
I never used to do babies. When I was in high school I swore I would never have a baby. I would live in a huge luxurious "flat" in London, England with 10 foot ceilings and a doorman. Had to have a doorman. And a roommate with a killer shoe collection. That was also key.
When someone handed me a baby I always cringed and took the baby, begrudgingly. The baby would sense my extreme discomfort and start screaming insanely. The mother of the child would say something to make it much much worse. Something like "Oh, pooky is never like that with strangers. I'm so sorry". I would want to punch her in the face and from that point on would go to any measures to avoid being around her or her stinking baby ever again. That's a true story, by the way.
Suffice it to say that babies were just as unimpressed with me as I was with them. We didn't get along and we didn't even want to try. The only baby I could tolerate was my nephew. And when he drooled on me or spit up on me I immediately handed him off. And if he cried? Forget about it. If no one was around I would have probably smothered him. IM KIDDING! But anyway, I digress.
Up until about the 7th month of my pregnancy with Carter I wondered if the mommy gene was ever going to kick in. I didn't feel maternal yet. I was curious about the little being in my belly, and felt the need to protect him (handing on to railings and such) but I didn't feel motherly. And this scared me. To top it all off, I was taking lots of antidepressants because I was at a high risk for post-pardum (spelling?) depression. I didn't even go through that nesting phase. And it would have been good if I had because maybe then I wouldn't still be living out of rubbermaid bins in the dungeon. But whatever.
Anyway, around the 7th month I did start feeling something. Every day I would ask a question like "I wonder what colour his hair will be..." or "I wonder if he'll be artistic..." or "I wonder if he'll like me..." so on and so forth.
But when I started going into labour it was as if I was a different person. Something overtook me and I became cool as a cucumber. All fear drained from me and I was tough. It hurt like a bitch and close to the end of the delivery I really wanted to die; but when I met him. Oh god when I met him. It was as if the sky above us wrapped us in a blanket of twinkie filling and heart shaped balloons. I was in heaven. And that's when I finally knew what it was all about.

mum jams: bad romance - lady gaga

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