I had just started taking Dylan out to story time at the library on a regular basis. He was about 2 months old, so this was about a year ago.
I get to the library late that day, which is normal. Good thing the organizer, Shannon, always starts late. She says we’re on “baby time,” so it’s wonderful to know that she totally gets it.
I’m still trying to learn the words and movements to all these songs we do here. It makes me feel like I am the new kid at school and no one has given me a tour. I kinda hum at half volume and make my mouth look like it’s forming words. At least none of the other moms care; they’re all focused on their own babies. Which reminds me, as I look down at Dylan- is he even enjoying this? Is he hungry? Did I remember to change his diaper before we left? Oh, new song. Hummm, humm, hummmm.
Now it’s time for the book. You Are My Sunshine. Ha, that’s fitting for the Pacific Northwest. I glance outside, and it’s lightly misting. Sigh. All these gray days blur together.
You are my sunshine (turn the page)
My only sunshine (Ugh, I started singing too high. I sound like crap…turn the page)
You make me happy (Aw, it’s true…turn the page)
When skies are gray (Gray like today…my eyes start pooling tears and my voice gets a little wobbly…turn the page)
You’ll never know dear (turn the page)
How much I love you (He’ll probably never know…because I don’t think I even know yet…turn the page)
Please don’t take my sunshine away (Wipe away tears from face before looking up from the book)
I look around the room through my wet lashes…Did anyone else feel that?
That overwhelming, hormonal, postpartum flood of emotion?
My tears spill over, soaking the front of my shirt and quickly saturating the carpet. I shield Dylan’s head so it won’t get wet, but soon the room fills with salty water, like in Alice in Wonderland.
Even though he is wet, Dylan’s body stays warm, and he feels like a sack of grain in my arms and lap. I hug him close.
His dense little body acts like an anchor for us. He keeps us from getting tossed around in the growing waves like the other moms and babies all around.
I look up and my eyes and ears come into focus. We’re singing a new song and everyone is back in place and bone dry. Blink, sniff. Hummm, hummm, hum.
I feel like I understood that song for the very first time.
When it’s all over I pack up and leave like nothing happened.
It’s day 3 of NaBloPoMo!!!! How will I ever get through this?!
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Wow, what lovely and evocative images! Bravo! :)
This post takes me back, because I used to sing that song to my babies. And I’d get teary too. Something that rarely happens. Guess it’s the lyrics, melody, and the sweet smell of our baby’s head. :)
Sweet, sweet oxytocin.