You are wrapped up in a blanket, warm, fed and content, sleeping soundly as the outside world goes about its business without interfering in yours. Almost eight weeks old and you have grown a little day by day, quietly, as it is in your manner. Even during an eighteen hour labour, your heartbeat remained at a steady 140 beats per minute, completely unfazed as you left the comfort of the womb to be brought to an unknown, strange world. You remained oblivious to the fact that there were many who were impatient to meet you, take you into their arms and breathe your sweet smell; you were in no hurry to get here.
You’re wearing a slightly surprised expression, with a frown draped across your brow. Who will you become when you grow up, I wonder? Will you be like your father, the centre of attention, the life and soul of the party with his can-do attitude and optimistic outlook? Or will you be like your mother, the one quietly observing, a thinker, a dreamer, an analyst, the one who doesn’t care much for the crowd?
Whilst I am excited to see you grow up, witness your first steps, your first walk through the school gates, the first time you’ll meet that someone special, to see all these ‘firsts’ i’m also saddened to think about how transient life feels. There is no doubt that you are growing up too fast. Your first baby grows- what once hung on your small frame now lay redundant in an unused basket, ready to be given away. Your eyes, which were once unable to focus, now follow me obediently as I move around the room, like an eighteenth century oil painting, never missing a step.
I can’t help but plaster all my dreams and aspirations on to you but I know you have your own calling in life to fulfill, one that I may not be able to influence, but perhaps shape.
Time now seems to pass so much more quicker now that you are in my life. Hours fly by and it feels like only minutes have passed. The sun just manages to peak across the horizon and it is ready to set again for another day. ‘Slow down world!’ is all I want to scream. I want to spend time with my son, get to know him for the angel that he is, gaze into his eyes and caress his soft skin, before he realises that he is able to escape my clutches.
The cord that once connected us slowly ebbing away. Growing up, and growing apart.