How much to give?

When did it happen? We all grew apart. Was it always this way? When did someone decide that babies should sleep so far away in another room? A monitor replaced a mama's ears. Logic and lecturing replaced the feeling in her heart. When did we decide that's what was best? Should a child have to cry before they are scooped up? Is it really so wrong to sit and stare for hours on end at an amazing miracle? Is there really a doubt that a mother will not take care of herself because she is obsessed with her child? Should she really be told to go lay down, go and eat, go and shower, go to work? Put that baby down and take care of yourself. Is there an hidden study that shows a mother loses her mental capacity upon birthing? Does anyone know of a story or seen a newspaper article of a mother who died because she held her baby too much? Is it really so wrong to actually want to stay home and cuddle your own baby all day? Am I anti-woman rights for opting out of working full time? And what exactly will go wrong? Will that baby be co-dependent? Will he never be able to function on his own? Will he be more adjusted and independent because he has confidence in his family support? Do I have to push him away at 4 weeks old to his own room to foster independence in adulthood?

It seems to me that I don't. It seems to me that what he needs the most in the world right now is consistant responsiveness. My heart tells me that he needs to know that I will answer his cries, or even tend them before he cries. My heart says pushing him away now will make him feel abandoned. My heart tells me he belongs by my side when we sleep. Where I can hear his little grunts and feel his lungs against my body doing what they are supposed to do. Asleep next to me on the couch, where I can glance over and see his chest moving up and down. He's snuggled up into my leg, I can feel his warmth and health and he smiles in his sleep. My heart tells me, at 4 years old, or maybe Kindergarten, he will do like his big brother has done. His long legs will begin to push me away in the bed, and soon he'd rather sleep on the floor in a little sleeping bag, close, but not too close. Soon he will just get up one night all on his own, teddy bear dragging along behind him on the floor, and toddle to his own bed. Soon he will dodge my kisses. Soon, with out any effort of my own, he will become this independent creature we all try to foster in our children. And what will be interesting to me is to see...how we will respond in the face of life. Will he come to me in times of stress? Will I still be the comfort I am now? Will he be able to get what he needs and toddle back into his life adjusted and normal? What exactly is the fear? That at 40 years old he will climb back into my bed? That he will never leave home? That he will not be independent? Jobless? Unable to function in life because I did not start pushing him into it at four weeks old?

They say that an infant lacks the ability to lay down memories. Twenty years ago they said that an infant also lacked the ability to feel pain. They did open heart surgery with no anesthesia on little babies. They still routinely do circumcisions with no pain relief. They answer the questions of concerned parents with "they usually fall asleep at the end." Fall asleep? Wouldn't you after a trauma? Once it was finally over and they unstrapped you from the board and stitched up your boo boo on your woo woo? Your voice horse from screaming in protest for 10-20 minutes with all you have in you? I would fall asleep. Sometimes the heart surgery babies never woke up...what if someday soon they sadly realize that a baby does have memory? They finally realized that babies feel-I wonder what it took to make that a "formal" and recognizable medical realization? What kind of testing and research had to be done? It couldn't be that a mother noticed she accidentally scratched a baby with her diamond ring and he cried in pain?

Is not one of the biggest complaints that childhood is over so fast? I frequently hear "when I was a kid..." Sweet memories of childhood. I want to be one of his memories. His mama. There. Always. Maybe someday they will find away to reach the memories stored in our brains of our infancy. What will yours say? What do mine say? I know what his will say.

I cannot argue that "training" a baby to put himself to sleep doesn't give the parents more free time. Teaching a baby to entertain himself does make him more independent. I'm not sure it's the independence the parents are looking for. I see it as more of a detachment than an independence. What must one tell the heart to be detached like that? Perhaps in the fear they are creating the opposite of what they seek. I look at many kids today-who's parents beyond work full time and just leave them money on the table for the day or week. They drive around in their cars and spend and play. No rules, no guidance, no comfort. No, they don't seem bothered by it. But we all are. The adults complain today about these kids endlessly "They chat on cell phones non-stop and have no regard for the world around them." They don't need to. The world pushed them away to their own space the minute they were born, cutting them free from their mama-the only world they have known, and whisking them away to their own bed in a hospital, farther away than they have ever been from mama, and more alone that ever in their life. They still walk in their own world, regardless of if they share it or not.

And I have to say...when I got pregnant, I knew it would be a demanding job. I knew exactly how demanding. I knew fully what I was getting myself into. My dreams were for my child, not my freedom. My dreams were for this tiny miracle and I spent months preparing for him. I wanted the perfect clothes, the perfect blankets, the perfect clean house. I planned the best birth I knew to give him, not me, but to give him. I picked his carseat. I planned to nurse him. I researched my butt off and prepared and planned as much as I could to give to him the best that I had. That included me. I couldn't wait to give him these gifts and to hold him in my arms. I couldn't wait to answer his every coo. He was not just a final number in our family to make things "round and complete." I could give a crap about numbers and organizing and being done and planning the whole future life of ours. Life has it's own plans, we get to ride along. I just wanted a baby. A real baby. One that has needs and wants and cries. I was prepared to change a whole lot for this baby...my entire life.

And I sit here typing, he begins to stir by my side. I stroke his little head and I just whisper, "mama's right here." He doesn't scream. He doesn't demand. He nuzzles into my leg and drifts back off to sleep. My heart...says this is right. For, soon enough, teddy bear in tow, he too will toddle into his own life, and I will be the one battling the feelings of alone. Watching from a distance this miracle as he walks his own life, hopefully a little better, a little more, a little fuller, because I chose to give him all I had and all I knew was right to give. That makes it worth it for me.