Thank the universe and medical science for Baby Man. I kiss him and hug him and tell him he’s the best thing ever a thousand times a day.
Here’s my crazy thought. We all know how often people tell us in subsequent pregnancies to “relax,” that our stress can affect the baby. I’ve read currently pregnant babyloss mama’s words as they struggle to “enjoy” their pregnancy for the baby’s sake.
Well we recently got Baby Man’s first “semester report” from daycare, which confirmed much of what I already knew. Guess who’s a very relaxed, easy-going baby? Guess who’s so cheerful and happy that random strangers comment on it? Yep, that’s right, the baby whose mama spent her pregnancy scared out of her mind, a nervous wreck, and freaking out in L&D every few weeks.
I can’t take credit. I didn’t do this to Baby Man. He came out this way.
But then, he’s also “exceptional” in his empathy. He’s 12 months old and crawls over to pat and comfort crying children. He watches people so carefully through the wisest, sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen. My Baby Man.
I’m sure this sounds just as crazy as the blame game and laying guilt on already-stressed women about their stress. But I like to think that maybe Baby Man absorbed a little love for other human beings as he lay in my uterus, because somehow, somewhere his system recognized what other people called “stress,” as a marker instead of the incredible love and desire I had, and his father had, and all of our friends, family, and every doctor and nurse who cared for us had, to bring him into this world alive, healthy and strong.