My family that was visiting left yesterday and now everything is so quiet with my little nephew gone. It's just not right. Without even noticing, I'd gotten used to a soundtrack of little grunts, yelps, coos, cries, shrieks, almost-giggles, and sneezes playing in the background of every minute. Beautiful, beautiful. It feels really quiet now. It's a bit sad.
I am crazy over that baby. All week if that little burrito would start to cry, they would hand him to Auntie LSL and he would glue himself to my body and bury his head in my neck and calm down and sleep.
I know I am one of them now. Nuts over a baby. He's all I want to think about, and I've been looking at his pictures non-stop since the real thing left. I'm going to ask my brother permission to post a picture, even briefly, so you all can tell me that he's the most beautiful baby you've ever seen. He is. His tiny, sly smile will make you believe in life again.
His mom asked, what will his voice sound like? Oh. He will have a voice. A tiny little voice, and then, someday, a grown-up voice. It's hard to believe. And what will his favorite subject in school be? Will he like vegetables? Will he be a reader? Will he have a good singing voice? Will he be a safe driver? Will he be close with his Auntie?
All week while holding him I said a little prayer that went like this: Please be happy. Kind. Compassionate. Thoughtful. Please be understanding. Respectful. Inclusive. Loving.
I've been wondering if I should be a mom. Will I feel satisfied in life if I'm not? Will I feel satisfied in life if I am? Just in case, I'm making up a list of approved sperm donors, and so far it includes one cute guy at work and Anderson Cooper.
In other news . . . oh, who am I kidding. There is no other news. What else matters? Nothing besides his bright eyes, chubby neck rolls, wiggly middle, flailing arms, grippy little toes, folded-up frog legs, tight fists with strands of my hair clenched in them . . .
Pouty lips. Tiny, tender ears. Button nose. Softest skin. Baby bird hair. Worried forehead. Searching, searching, searching eyes.