Love Like This

Our night alone went fine. It felt a little weird/scary to be all alone in the house all night, but on the plus side I feel much safer bed sharing when it's just me and the Boomer (Mr. I's nickname for him) in a king sized bed. I can so easily keep all the covers and pillows far away from him but still have easy access for nursing.

The biggest challenge? My neurotic Unicorn. He takes over as man of the house when Mr. Ibis isn't here, and that involves being a skittish mess who is constantly underfoot and attuned to every tiny sound in the universe. He actually kept the barking to a minimum, thank goodness, but a couple of times something stupid scared him (once, it was my foot brushing by his backside, another time I think a mouse in China farted) and he YELPED which is seriously the most heart attack inducing sound in history. Plus, having a hyperalert animal around for 18 straight hours kind of puts a person on edge just by itself. Way to be a man, dog!

I don't know if it was just being alone all evening or maybe watching a 20/20 about childhood schizophrenia (why did I do that?) but my thoughts started to wander to dark places and I sunk into a kind of weird, anxious mood. I started feeling really scared about daycare, about Miles getting his 2 month shots next week, about anything bad at all happening to him.

I'd heard mothers talk about this sort of thing before and now I'm experiencing it - being super sensitive to bad news stories about children getting sick or hurt. Sometimes I feel like it accumulates like a toxic sludge in my mind. I read about a baby dying of SIDS online, or I see a new story about shaken baby syndrome on the local news, and these things burrow into my brain like parasites. When I think about how much I grieved for the baby we lost at just 9 weeks pregnant, it terrifies me to think of anything happening to my son.

It's really scary sometimes to love such a vulnerable creature so much. Just looking at his little foot when I put on a sock is enough to make my heart explode. I understand, now, the difference between loving a spouse and loving a child. My love for Mr. Ibis is a steady, satisfying love shared between equals. My love for Miles is an overwhelmingly beautiful but almost painful desire for him to always always be happy and safe. I know that's not possible, and probably not even healthy, but at a visceral level that's what I crave for him.