Lucy,
You are 17 months old now. Sometimes I look at you...and I wonder where these months have gone. It's sounds like such a trite thing to say, and I say it So Often, but really --
I was spinning you around tonight, looking at all of your teeth as you threw your head back &
Laughing with you at dinner; you understand subtle looks and find them hilarious &
Feeling the spot on my lip, now healing, but which you made bloody when you chucked a board book at my face while I was doing yoga &
Asking you, "Are you ready for bed?" and watching you crawl to the bathroom door, stand up and say "uh, huh!" &
Listening to you talk on your phone, asking for more pinto beans, pointing out the banana in your big book of words &
Did you say 'book' tonight?! &
Realizing that you are 31.5 inches tall and in the 60th percentile &
Feeling a lump in my throat and hearing my own head "I am so lucky".
There are only a few moments I have felt are so perfect, except with you, the "Lucy moment" just keeps stretching on. I mean it's not like I'm never upset, tired of singing "Mary Had a Little Lamb all the damn time, bored or anxious that I'm doing everything right, but, for the most part I just can't believe how great you are, how incredibly fortunate we are.
Grandma and grandpa called tonight to see are you are doing, even though they just saw you yesterday. In the call, they told me that the 18 year old son of family friends (and my high school teachers) has Hodgekins disease. It is a form of cancer. He is in his first year of college (Lewis and Clark) and on a basketball scholarship. Hopefully he will be okay, hopefully they can "get rid" of the disease.
So it makes me think -- when I'm listening to you breathe over the monitor, when I'm worried that you are stuffing too many Puffins in your mouth and may choke, when I imagine about you walking, alone, to a friends house someday and all of these things make me edgy -- now I'm realizing it could be years of worrying. I could think we are in the clear. "Phew," I'll think. "She made it through high school" and then...a disease that could take you away from me, from us.
I'm trying, in general, not to worry so much. I know it will make me a better mother (person) not to delve too far into the dark scenarios that run through my head. Someday (maybe) you'll read this (does it really exist?). And what will you think? What will I?
What I want you to know is -- even if you make me bleed, I will read you stories and take you to the park and laugh at your jokes. You are one amazing baby, and I know you'll grow into an awesome chick.
Love, Mom
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I am currently quite worried about my pregnancy, but I keep reminding myself that this is just the beginning -- I will worry about this child until the day I die, so I'd better try to keep it in check. If it's not premature labor, it will be SIDS or choking on pennies or falling off the jungle gym or bullies at school or, heaven forbid, my child driving his own car! Kids really are easier to take care of inside your belly than outside.
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