So Walt’s been kicking around outside my uterus for 40 days now. When he first showed up, he kind of felt like a houseguest with whom I had nothing in common with. In fact, during the car ride home from the hospital, I told Ryan I felt I should be making awkward small talk with this baby in the backseat (he didn’t have a name yet). I continued to feel this way. A while ago, I acquired a mod-clear glass head that I felt added a presence to my then basement apartment. As I walked by the head, I felt the need to acknowledge it. I had this same feeling about Walt. When we came home from hosptial that morning and put Walt in his car seat bucket on the dining room table I didn’t know what to do with him. All hopped up on adrenalin, Ryan and I cleaned up the house from the labour the day before and began to make soup. It was as though I should have offered Walt some coffee and asked about the weather back home.
It wasn’t until the weekend before last that I felt like Walt belonged. It’s weird to love something, but also feel like it’s a bit on an intruder. Again, he just felt like such an unassuming house guest – albeit one who screamed for his breakfast. Now, however, he’s got his own thing going on. He’s got his favourite hangout (the dining room table/changing table). He’s got his hobbies (breastfeeding). And, he’s much more popular than Ryan and I combined (at least least according to the baby gifts he’s received).
You’re a funny lady.