It’s been a hard couple of days to live in my head.
1 am for some reason is the time some demon comes to visit. The hour of all my fears setting their teeth into me.
Two nights ago those teeth took the form of remembering a story relayed by a holocaust survivor about what happened to his infant niece. (And I’ll leave it at that, sharing the nightmare won’t ease it any).
And that story haunts me. Because the babies all look like Alex when the scene plays on fucking repeat when I’m at my most exhausted. And no amount of reminding myself that this took place 60 plus years ago helps ease me when the demon sink it’s teeth in.
But on the other hand. I look at Alex when the teeth are securely fastened and my mouth tightens a bit, and I know there is no way that anyone is getting to this boy without going through me. I feel that Mama Bear instinct strengthen in me more each time.
And realize the only way for me to do this motherhood thing is to go all in. Which I’ve never done before. People always get held off just that little bit, just that touch so I’m always left slightly independent of them, just in case something happens and they aren’t with me anymore. Even Scout. And I think he knows this. Which makes me a little sad.
I thought I could do motherhood the same way. But I’m beginning to see that it’s not going to be that way. I look at Alex and I know that no one is going to hurt him if there’s anything I can do about it. I’ve known from his birth that he’s one of my tribe. That he belongs to me. Spending the last ten days in the house with me, Alex, Scout and my mom was a … it was bonding… for all of us …. I did realize what a blessing it was each “night” (whenever my “night” began) as I went to sleep, and remembered to say thank you for having the three people most important to me under my roof.
All in. This boy is going to make me go all in. I’ll have to in order to continue to go with a shortage of sleep. To feed him the one ounce per hour for the 10th time a day, to watch all my furniture take another hit of breast milk, spit up, or little boy pee, to not sleep by my husband, to listen to him cry (Alex, not Scout).
All in. And right now. Sitting here just after sunrise, Alex crashed out on my lap, one arm tucked behind his head like “I’m the coolest 13 day old baby on the block”, in actual non stained AND dry clothes, it’s easy to see how I will fall for this little boy again and again. It’s easy to overlook how loving this boy all in will break my heart on occasion, keep me scared at 1am for … oh … ever….. and whatever other God awful hard things are in the future.
Again, I’m looking over my shoulder trying to find where the adults are that are supposed to be taking care of all the big decisions.