Thursday, April 19, 2007


The weather is nice today. No, gorgeous. They promised improvement by tomorrow, but the noreaster has cleared early and here it is-- a perfect spring day-- a bit on the cool side, so you can't wear a t-shirt, but you don't need a windbreaker either, sunny and clear.

We had a staff meeting this afternoon, and after that, because this is a university campus and parking here sucks, I had to move my car. The parking space I found was a bit of a distance from my building, but I didn't mind-- after the miserable weather we've had, I thought it would be a nice walk.

Here's the thing, though. A's due date was a day after Monkey's birthday, and she had the good manners to be born right on her due date. Somehow, until today I have avoided thinking about what I would/should be doing at this moment in time. But the nice walk did me in. I just saw myself going for another walk, the walk I took so many times with Monkey five years ago-- to the grocery store, pushing her pram. It had to be a pram because in the Old Country you learn that babies have to lie flat. Strange, but with A I saw myself wearing him in one of those trendy baby carriers that are handmade by other moms and don't hurt your back. They didn't have those five years ago.

So I though of how old he would be now. And then this other memory pushed itself in. When Monkey was six weeks old, I went on a job interview to a neighboring state, driving through a gorgeous spring day just like today, my boobs hurting like nobody's business by the end of the 2 hour drive because I am nothing if not a milk factory.

From there, it was a simple and unavoidable step to that "milk is coming in" feeling in my boobs, to physically feeling the baby carrier wrapped around me and A's little head on my chest, right where it rested for almost two hours the day he was born. Strange, because I never actually wore that baby carrier. And the tears. Of course. All of this right as I was passing by a single tree on my entire walk that has somehow managed to sprout tiny little green leaves. All the other trees either had their full leaves from the last time it was warm or were still bare. Yeah, unexpected.

1 comment:

niobe said...

I know. You can't help thinking of the way it should have been. And the contrast with the way it actually turned out feels like something sharp, pressed against your ribs.