Late to the Game

I’m not going to lie, it was harder than I thought, especially the last three months before he arrived when I moved like a tranquilized musk ox. The first two weeks I measured exclusively in the four-hour increments when I would be able to pop my next pain pill. Norco. My incision finally stops pounding from the efforts of the day. 

It’s not that I thought it would be a breeze it’s just some things that are difficult for other people come easily to me, like Biology for instance or drawing or project managing, organizing or getting along with people. That sort of thing. I’m luck that way.

Women have been having babies since the dawn of time, so naturally I would be able to do it…no problem. I mean if I can do many things at once surely I can do one thing at a time? 

He smiles in his sleep and every bit of difficulty disappears like my name written in sand that the waves erase quickly and without effort. I lean forward over the bassinet listening for his breathing, which comes in fits and starts. He is fragile and small and unbelievably vulnerable, making me angry at no one in particular.

I am forty-two and a mother for the first time. I always loved children I just never felt ready for my own until recently. I thought I knew what it would take and I wasn’t sure I had it to give, but let’s be honest, I didn’t really know...

I have nothing against young mothers or any mothers for that matter. In fact I quite have a new respect for all mothers, especially my own (Lord, please don’t punish me for my transgressions against my mother!). I just feel I have a unique perspective arriving so late to this game, grateful to be allowed to play at all.

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