Baby on my Chest

Babies are a funny thing. At least for me.

When I was a young person I assumed parenthood was in my future. It was a given. Additionally I have always been fascinated by the idea of pregnancy. It just strikes me as being an amazing thing, to hold within you a developing person. What a privilege and responsibility and wonder... Sort of like the heart of teaching, molding a human building from within.

Further, I love children. Not all ages, always, but I really enjoy working with them. I've been told I have a special touch with babies especially. I'll agree I am comfortable with them.

As I got older and marriage and family seemed less of a given I spent less time thinking about it. Also as a teacher, it's amazing how tired you get of children sometimes. It's sort of like spending all the energy required to be a parent all at once in one big burst. Not to say that I didn't still enjoy children, but teaching is an exhausting thing... exhausting in your very soul.

Now, I find myself content to let others around me parent. There are so many other things that I am doing, need to do, want to do, and may be the only person who can do. Still not to say that I don't want to, or wouldn't consider it, just that I am not focused on it. Being responsible for a senior citizen taps a lot of what might have been left after teaching...

But then, I borrow a baby while a friend is in the hospital having her fourth. This warm ball of flesh and hair with big blue eyes and blonde curls curled up on my chest and would not budge. All other arms she refused and she slept on my chest and rested there for hours.

At moments like that, my heart cries out for that reality. ... to hold a baby of my very own.