Saturday, March 24, 2007

Perfect Moment Series- #1


June 2006

Reader’s discretion advised:
The “perfect moment series” is full of complete mushy gushy ooey gooey sentiments of a new mother absolutely engulfed in the miracle of a new little person. Read on at your own risk of a tear, an eye roll, or overwhelming nausea.

My day started out rather well, I actually awoke fifteen minutes before I had planned to awake to begin the day, I sailed through my morning and afternoon activities with my husband and baby and had just had the family over for a BBQ. I flew into a sort of rage however, upon my family leaving the house, when I discovered bits and pieces of chocolate cake smeared into the carpet along with crushed nacho cheese Doritos.
After a fifteen minute tirade to my siblings about the responsibilities of houseguests upon leaving their hostess’s dwelling, I finally finished cleaning up the house with my husband and then crawled into bed.
Lily had just woken up….lovely. Probably from the ranting voice of her mother in the other room five minutes earlier. There she was, laying in her crib with her button up light yellow sleeper, all soft and ‘cottony’ wrapping her chubby little frame. She instantly smiled and began kicking her legs as she looked up at me, as if she were ready to get up at 11pm to start her next day. “Oh dear…,” I sighed as I picked her up and kissed her, and brought her in the bed to nurse, and hopefully fall asleep.

That’s when it hit. For the second time…. What I have now coined “ A Perfect Moment.”

Since having Lily, my life has generally been more beautiful and wonderful on a daily basis. It has been impossible to call any day a bad day when she is there to smile at me and kiss and cuddle. My days are beautiful days, my life is charmed. But Perfect Moments are different. They are moments when things around me seem to hush, and the overwhelming and almost crushing realization of what I have and am a part of hits. It is at this awakening I feel a rush of the truest sense of joy, the fullest level of fullness (is that possible?), and I am moved to a deep and real feeling of swelling, loving emotion. This is not the neurotic premenstrual syndrome hitting, or the motherly sense of tenderness that I have learned of before, it is an entirely new sensation. At the risk of sounding cliché, it is almost indescribable.

The first perfect moment was about three months ago. I was busy rushing to my next destination during a busy workweek, with Lily buckled securely in the back seat. I had to stop and get gas, and so I pulled over at the nearest station, whined to myself about the latest rise in gas prices, and began pumping. While filling up, I climbed into the back seat to wait with Lily, since at her very young age (2 months) once the car stopped so did her patience with her carseat. I began to talk to her, and as I did she looked right up at me in the eyes, and smiled the most genuine smile I had ever seen. She had smiled previously before, a few times at home, but this smile was different. It was a smile of recognition, and one that seemed to jump out and say what her little body couldn’t express: she was saying. “I love you!” I knew it! I felt it. The excitement and happiness and utter melting of my heart all combined at once and I immediately coined this experience such a ‘perfect moment’.

This second perfect moment began tonight, when I undressed Lily out of her sleeper, although cute and cuddly, because I knew she would be too hot in our big bed with our giant comforter swarming as I nursed her. Tyler and I were both in our lightest summer pajamas, and we crawled under the crisp, freshly washed sheets and threw our comforter off the bed and laid with Lily in between. She instantly stopped her fidgeting, usually fussy self upon awakening during the night. Instead, she stretched her arms out so that each arm was touching Tyler and I, and she looked back and forth, pausing each time to study our faces with her twinkling, almond eyes. Her fat, round, porcelain white body barely stretched to the length of my arm and Tyler’s elbow, and there she lay, with her soft round belly rising and falling with each breath. Her belly button barely peeks out from her big diaper, and she pulls her little pink toes (courtesy of Mommy) up to her chest until she literally resembles a ball of the most adorable baby fatness. She had her binkie in, but I could see her smile peeking out of the edges as I slowly opened my eyes to a squint to look back at her.
You see, the doctor told us if Lily was to awake in the night, even for a feeding, we were not to look her in the eyes and begin smiling or playing. This would only stimulate her further, and hence prolong the awful nightlong jaunts that we occasionally dealt with. But how could I resist those eyes? She slowly grabbed and touched my nose and lips, as if I were some creature whose planet she had just arrived at and was here to study. She looked very closely and studied my features, much the same way as I have studied hers for the past six months. I don’t know what she was thinking in that little, new mind of hers. But I could feel that she loved me as she touched and studied. How does this happen?
This was when I was slammed with the perfection of my life. Here I was, laying in my soft bed with my indescribably wonderful husband and our most precious and perfect creation in between us. Looking at her, it doesn’t make sense that that Tyler and I claim responsibility for her existence. No, something much greater than us created her, and we are blessed enough to get to hold possession and take credit for a time. I relaxed and forgot instantly about everything around me and just soaked up the feeling of them there with me, allowing the feeling of joy and completion to just sink in a settle for awhile.
I smiled, and this was no smile intended for anyone else. Tyler had already fallen fast asleep and Lily was close behind. This smile was for me, for the circumstance surrounding me. It was genuine. I am happy. Truly and utterly happy. It was at this moment, as Lily lay content feeling safe between her mommy and her daddy, drifting off to sleep, that I wiped a tear from my eye as I realized I had just experienced another perfect moment.

2 comments:

MOM said...

My perfect moment - now! Reading these wonderful postings...Sorry it took me so long! What a treasure...Keep reading my postings - they get better!(and funnier)
MOM

Grandma said...

Thank you, Rae, Rae for a wonderful morning sharing your thoughts with you. You have a gift of words and expression...