"Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body."
You really understand the meaning of that quote when you get a notification on your Facebook wall that your baby who is now 37 weeks old, considered full term, and could come at any time, is about to vacate the sacred spot beneath your heart where he's been living and enter the world.
A friend's mom told me that being pregnant was the happiest time for her because her boys were like her little buddies, they were always with her- constant companions. She knew that it was the only time in their lives she'd be able to protect them. Carrying my son has been such an honor, I know he's already a wonderful person, but I'd be lying if I told you there weren't times when Trevor and I are sitting together, watching a movie, eating dinner, driving to the store or just enjoying the quiet while we read in bed where I don't get a twinge of sadness knowing that our time alone is coming to an end. It's not for lack of desire to have a family, it's more the acknowledgment that something very big is about to change for us and "us" up to this point has been really great.
But then I look at Trevor's face when he spies a toy at the store that he thinks would be perfect for our baby. How excited he gets when he talks about how he wants to help him develop and learn and become curious about the world. I remind myself that it's not a stranger who's about to enter our house, but this glorious, miraculous extension of both of us. In bringing this baby into the world, it feels like I've tied a ribbon onto the end of a javelin and thrown it years and years into the future. I can see that ribbon stretch far into the future as this beautiful person- this baby that we've created grows older and, hopefully, brings new life into the world that wouldn't be here were it not for me and his dad. Having a baby is the closest any of us may get to immortality.
But for now, as I sit here, I feel his little feet tapping against me. He squirms and wiggles. He is in tune with my every emotion. When I start to get worried because I haven't felt him move in awhile, right on cue, I get a nudge. In a few weeks I will be celebrating his birthday for the first time. I will have to let him go for the first time. And if we are fortunate enough to go through this again, it will be his brother or sister I'll be letting go. But as that javelin keeps flying into the future, I know I'm not alone watching it sail over my head. I've got Trevor right beside me. I'm not losing "us" at all, I'm just sharing the best part of us with the world. And right now that best part of us is making himself ready to join us on this spinning globe and take some trips, hopefully many trips, around the sun.
And I get to have a front row seat with Trevor for all of it. It will be the very best show either of us has ever been a part of.
