Tuesday, July 01, 2014

to love a child

It came at a good time. The hospital held a service for all those parents who have lost babies there on Sunday.

There were some readings, and we got to light a candle and place a Gerbera daisy in a ring.
It was tremendously sad. Seeing a room full of weeping parents who had lost babies. Another reminder that we are not alone.
There was a couple next to us who had lost both their twins. My heart just aches for them. There was a tea session after the service, but I noticed that they didn't come to that.

I desperately wanted to approach them. But then I thought, "But why?" Here I was, standing with Sebastian who was gurgling away, and say, what, "Hello, I lost a twin?" Surely they would immediately look at Sebastian and say "Well lucky you, you have one at least."
Best not approach them at all. It would only hurt them.

Sebastian reminds me of Molly a lot. I'm not sure if that would happen if someone loses both their twins. I always wonder if she would look similar to him, or be loving my milk and turning into a little fattie like he is. Would she be trying to roll now like he is?


This week we are taking him to his first wedding. I'll be wearing a giant maxi dress to hide the staunchness of my heaving hips. I'll put him in a white romper with sailboats across the front.
(Dressing boys can be fun. He has shirts and things with dirt diggers, tractors racing cars and boats on them. It's fucking cute.)

The Brit is one of the groomsmen, so I'll drive up to Buckinghamshire with him separately, and then after the ceremony I'll tuck him in and leave him with his first babysitter.

Eeek! I know it's normal to be scared and anxious - right? Mummy is going to need a few glasses of champagne just for the nerves.

Then on the weekend, we travel south to the Brit's hometown to see his family in Hampshire. Taking him out of his little London routine and bubble is freaking me out.

The joy I feel when he smiles though.
It's really hard to describe how much you love your own child. It goes beyond anything you have experienced in your life; you live for this tiny little thing. You'd do anything, literally anything for your child. 
(Like register him for two private prep schools that we can't currently afford, but plan to win the lottery before he attends. Or loot something.)

The love you feel for your child runs deep within you, and just when you think you couldn't love it anymore - you're too full - you love it more than you did the day before.
To the point when you think if anything happened to you child, you'd die. You'd break in half. I am completely paranoid something will happen to Sebastian. I check on him every 10 minutes when he sleeps during the day.
If anyone were to try and harm him? This Mother Ship would destroy them. 

I love my little boy more than anything in this world; my life is no longer my own.


Val said...

We all told you your life would never be the same. :) These little guys grab hold of your heart and never let go. My own kids still have that effect on me and now that I have grandchildren, somehow, it is even worse. That heart squeeze never leaves you.
Enjoy, Enjoy, Enjoy! ♥

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Flarkit said...

The fact that you respond in this way says that your life was never your own... You were meant to be that little tyke's mom