I've not forgotten the day Xavier took his first step. Neither have I forgotten the day he said his first word.
It's just that, when you're finally a mother, these things actually matter to you, like they're your wedding anniversaries, like the birthdays of your crushes, like they're the days of the huge sales at the mall or something. For some reason, things that never mattered before become so important like they're the world. It's a sudden realization that you're already a grown up, that you have to be mature, that you have a responsibility.
The responsibility of another's responsibility, your own child, the flesh and blood of your lover and yourself.
The Lord's responsibility is the world, and we are his world. But it's up to Virgin Mary - mothers - to raise the children of the Lord. And perhaps that's why I take pride in watching them splash about in the bath, why I take pride in mentioning them all the time, because I believe children are the only gift God gives to us. It's the only miracle which can happen to ordinary people like us, although I know there are some others out there with special cases.
Let me ask all the mothers out there; What was the first thing you did when your baby was brought into this world?
And let me ask all the fathers out there; What was the first thing you did when your baby was brought into this world?
Often, for the mothers, we cuddle them. The first thing we do is to hold them close, no matter how bloody they may be, and tell yourself, this is my baby, and I'm going to protect him and love him unconditionally. And then we start crying, because finally, finally, we get to see our flesh and blood, the child we've been waiting to meet for our past 25 years or so.
Fathers? I could say that most fathers'd look at the baby's toes and fingers and make sure they have the right amount. I still haven't figured that out. I remember when I gave birth to Xavier I slept for a long, long time. I was in the ICU for some time, and somehow I just survived, because I told myself I haven't seen yet the baby I've been carrying inside me for 38 weeks. I thought, if I could survive the contractions, then oh God, I can survive anything else. And when Caitlyn was finally out, the first thing I did was to just hold her close.
I don't know why I paid special attention to what Kevin was doing, but I just did. And it was surprising. He didn't count the number of fingers, or toes, she had. He just came over, put his arms around me and Caitlyn, and that was that. No counting. No looking. To us, our children are just perfect they way they are. No questions. She was ours, and she was perfect. After that, I just started crying. I was supposed to catch some sleep but I couldn't, I was too excited, and I was too scared the same thing would happen like the other time, though I knew there was no possibilty it would since the doctor said I was okay.
But I still cried, I remember I did. Not for the contractions, not for the nine months to be finally over, but for the joy of giving life to another child, for the joy of having another person who birthed from me. For another child who would call me her mother, and Kevin her father. It's indescribable, the feeling. The excitement of wanting to jump up from my bed and just playing with my baby all day long and doing nothing else.
I think marriage is another miracle. I know this line totally doesn't relate to this whole entry but it was a sudden thought, you know, about relating marriage with sex with children.
Okay, I'm over.
