Standing Still

Today is Arlo’s due date. It’s strange to think that all this time – all the feedings, diaper changes, bath-times, and extensive cuddling sessions, all the frustrations and minor successes of learning and relearning the ways of a newborn, all the time we’ve spent staring into each other’s eyes and falling in love, might instead have been a few more weeks of belly kicks, occasional heartburn, and checking baby prep stuff off our to do list.

I’ve always been a big fan of natural disaster movies. Maybe it’s the procrastinator in me that’s forever hoping for something big to save me from my deadlines, but isn’t there’s just something appealing about the idea of nature stepping in and telling you to forget about paying those bills and cleaning the house and getting your work done and eating healthy because the big one is about to hit and that’s all that matters now? And of course in the movies pretty much everyone survives (except maybe the family dog and Bruce Willis).

When I think about the day Arlo was born, it seems a bit like a natural disaster movie. Like in Dante’s Peak where they know trouble is brewing at the volcano, but they don’t realize it’s about to blow. And that’s when big important things ensue and all the mundane annoying tasks that normally clutter people’s lives fall away. When Arlo was born, and in the days thereafter when he was in the NICU, there was a very clear focus to our days – just one thing to do, the most important thing – and that was make sure our baby was okay. It didn’t matter that our apartment was a mess or that I hadn’t laundered any of the baby clothes in the special baby detergent (tasks that my wonderful, loving parents took care of for us – thanks, Mom and Dad!). And for a short time, nature obliged us and time stood still…

Since coming home with Arlo, things have slowly been normalizing. Mark is back at work, I sometimes put Arlo in a vibrating chair and check my email, I’ve figured out how to read while nursing, we watch movies in the evenings, we take Arlo to stores and barbeques, we do our laundry and pay our bills, Arlo reminds us we don’t know what we’re doing as we try to outwit him. Things feel sort of normal again. And then sometimes I look at our little boy and realize he’s growing. Of course he’s growing. That’s what we want to happen (that and sleeping through the night). But, babies grow really really fast! The other day my mom reminded me of this fact and suggested that we slow down and enjoy him in all his newbornness. What she said was that we should “stand still.” It was a good thing to say. Because in the absence of a natural disaster, it’s our job to make time stand still.