Baby Taco: 12 weeks, 5 days
I am going to say something horrible. I don’t want to admit it. Honestly to write this down makes me feel like a horrible mother. Ok, here it goes:
I laugh when my kid crys. Not all the time, just when he’s really having a shit fit. His face turns bright red, giant tears roll down his face, his toothless mouth opens wide and here I am laughing at him. It is awful but I can’t help it. Even when he’s sad he is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Also, he shares a striking resemblance to Tommy Pickles.
When it was time to push, I didn’t cry. I had been crying the night before, the weeks before, the months before but when it came time to go, an indescribable focus came upon me. In the same sense, my husband who had been a rock my entire pregnancy had finally had a small break. The doctors were getting ready and I go to hold his hand. My husband put his face really close to mine and I told him I was scared. He kissed my sweaty forehead and let himself go, but only a little. A couple tears came out and he said that he loved me and I could do it and he was already so proud of me. I go to push and out came Taco and right away I heard his cry. Here I am, tears all around me and I laughed. It was the best sound I have ever heard.
His stay in the NICU produced countless crys from both me and my husband but Taco stayed strong. Even at his worst, he would smile. He would laugh in his sleep. He still does now. His smiles in the NICU gave my husband and I hope that all will be well. It was almost like Taco was letting us know that everything will be ok.
Nurses would say that he was the best baby in the NICU. He would wake up, bright eyed, through all the wires and oxygen and feeding tubes and still, he would not cry. Even when they gave him a spinal tap, twice, the doctor said not a single tear was shed. I don’t know why he never cried in the NICU. I like to think it was his way of staying strong for us. Taco knew he was going to be ok. Maybe it was his way of letting us know too.
So here we are 3 months later. No more wires. No more doctors rushing in to check on him. Taco is home now and is a typical baby. He crys. A lot. He smiles even more. My husband and I are now typical parents. We cry. We smile. And for me, here I am laughing at his meltdowns. Maybe it has to do with the fact that he can cry. His lungs are strong enough to scream and yell and let me know he’s mad. His tears let me know that all his insides are working right. I don’t get mad when he spits up or is inconsolable. His body is working. He’s growing, he’s learning what it feels like to feel.
My Taco, there will be times in your life where you will feel like the world is caving in around you. You will want to cry and scream and lose your wit. In those awful times, I hope you see the beauty that you have come so far that you can cry. You are strong and it is ok to feel.