Nursing Buddha

A year ago, The Man and I went to Oatland Island, we came home and bbq’ed, we had a quiet silly afternoon together. And then I acted on a whim, based on a vibration in the hormonal Force, tempered slightly by the reality that I shouldn’t get my hopes up too high…but then in just 90 seconds, there was this to think about and this became all there was to think about:

In the beginning, pregnancy can be scary to believe in, because you don’t know what will happen. You don’t want to set yourself up for disappointment, even though you pretty much fully invest in this future child the second the big “p” appears. The heart has no reigns.

So I was all in, full of hope and afraid to hope all at the same time. Before this pregnancy, we had some bad luck earlier in the year, and so I was particularly attune to the unfortunate “what can happen” scenarios. We kept this pregnancy private for an extraordinary length of time because it’s so much easier to tell than untell. Even when we did start sharing the news, and even when visit after visit was good and reaffirming, and the little bean grew into a gummy bear which then magically transformed into a complete baby by our next ultrasound, I was still a little scared. Now with Baby Buddha actually here, healthy and robust and perfect, I’m still a little scared. Because she has gone from phantom hormones on a stick to the absolute center of my reality. And a reduction of attachment is impossible, there is only the constant increase in all the bonds between us. So this person, this bundle of fragility and possibility, is what puts the breath into me as much as she sucks it right out of me.

So, to Baby Buddha, I say, Happy 1st Anniversary of Pretty Much Taking Over My Life With A Level of Anxiety That is Only Outweighed By the Love It Lives Off. I’m sure there’s a card for it.