I was aware of my children from shortly after they were conceived. I was sure I was pregnant before I had confirmation by home pregnancy test, and then doctors office.
For nine months, I was mindful of all I ate, how I slept, whether I emptied the cat box, how much I was on my feet, and any other thing that might effect the growing babe inside me.
I talked to my belly, saying how excited I was to have a new life inside me. I traced a little foot, or bottom as it pushed outwards from a long stretch. I loved going to the doctor's office after the 18th week, and hearing that little heart beat-beat, beat-beat, beat-beat.
Childbirth was hard, but not impossible, and the feelings of joy as I saw what I had nurtured, as each of my two children were laid upon my chest, cannot possibly be put into words.
Children. My mom always said, "God gives them (children) to you for only a little bit. They aren't yours to keep." I am pretty sure my response to her was, "I know mom." Even if I just thought it in my head.
Reflecting back now, I realize my mom wasn't telling me, but was speaking about me, in front of me. She was trying to deal with her own heartache. I just didn't know it at that time.
My own baby turned twenty four recently.
She's growing into a beautiful woman. I am lucky because she lives nearby and I do get to see her. But I didn't get to see her on her birthday. She had other things she needed to do. Other people with whom she needed to celebrate her day.
She, as most young adults, didn't realize I was thinking of her at 7:31 am on the exact time she was born. Or that I had been recalling my day before her entry into this world 24 years ago. Those memories are mine, and mine alone.
I finally understand my mom's words. I guess I'm not quite ready for my 'little bit' to be over yet.
~ Lisa
