"In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity."
~ Albert Einstein ~
A baby boy. Perfect in every way. Small body swimming in his hospital issued blue t-shirt. Crying, needing something from me and I had no idea how to give it.
I just need to rest, recuperate I thought and the things will get better. A way, I know realize, to deal with my doubt and uncertainties. I passed that sweet little boy off on Daddy and watched in amazement as he changed him, fed him and rocked him to sleep. I knew what to do, in theory, that was not the problem. There was something standing between knowing and doing. Something dark and sad, something that made me want to run away and never, ever face that little baby again.
Through night sweats and pain from the emergency c-section, I tried to get the darkness out. I felt myself sinking fast, gasping for air, trying to scream out before my lungs filled with sea water. I needed the light, my newborn baby needed the light. What we both needed was what I feared the most- time alone, to get to know each other, to enjoy each other.
Oh, how I cried when the time came for my husband to leave. I remember hoping, wishing, praying that his flight would be cancelled and he wouldn't have to return to Japan. God had other things in mind, though.
That first night really alone with the baby was a lot of trial and error, a lot of diapers and formula, a little less sleep than I would have liked and a little less scary than I thought it would be.
As I changed him, fed him and rocked him to sleep, I felt the darkness recede a little. A few days later as he slept happily on my chest, I felt it recede even more until finally as I bathed him later that evening I knew that we would be okay. We would learn together, stumble together, laugh together and cry together.
A rough few weeks in return for the opportunity to watch my son grow and change. A rough few weeks in return for the opportunity to get to know my son. A rough few weeks in return for the opportunity to be a mommy.