Beyond Words

I’ve been holding another baby, my niece. Molly was born 4 days ago. It got me thinking about the connection we have to our children, the connection I have to my children. This new baby is beautiful and it feels good to hold her but it is nothing like it felt to have my own babies in my arms. The weight of responsibility and the bewildering awe and anxiety is conspicuously missing.

When Isaac and Libby were teeny like she is, I was unable to keep from kissing one sweet spot near their warm temples, so soft and delicious. It was irresistible to me. I had to put my lips to that spot… breathe them in, feel their realness, maybe a thousand times a day. I tend to mostly keep my lips off other people’s babies.

My dear friend who is not a parent herself admits to studying me and other mom friends to gauge if she is mother material herself. I assure her that no one would ever choose motherhood if it were based on spending time with anyone else’s children. I fumble around any child that isn’t Isaac or Libby because only they make much sense to me. I know them -- their tendencies and temperaments. In my before life, I knew I wanted to have children but I didn’t know it would be like this, from the outside it is so ordinary, you can’t throw a nursing bra without hitting a mother, but from the inside it blows me away.

It strikes me that on my wedding day, I stood up and vowed my commitment to Kramer in front of lots of people in a pretty dress but these babies come into our lives in much more private and messy ceremonies and all the promises of commitment are unspoken because your heart, who you are and how you love is simply altered beyond words.