Life and Baby

Its been 17 months since Tiny-one came into my life. 17 glorious months of endless love and sleepless nights.

My pregnancy was uneventful, well when I say uneventful I don't count being forced to go on a leave in my 7th month and also a very scary-funny ER trip: my dear husband was trying to steal my thunder or so I thought at that time. See, uneventful. 

So when the Tiny-one did come along, I was overwhelmed. In spite of all the books I had read and all the homework I had done, I was surprised at the little precious package I was given. My only solace was that my mom was with me to take care of the baby. But then like all good things come to an end, my mom left after a mere 3.5 months. I was scared. Tiny-one and I spent the first day alone crying over small things. 

Eventually, I did manage. Both of us are still alive and kicking, kicking hard in his case I must say. We are a well oiled machine. We move in unison through our day. We know what the other wants just by a little movement of the eye. I have a full time job with a very demanding boss. It feels good at the end of the day if the Tiny-one sleeps well. Feels like I've done my job well. 

As the time passes, he is growing. Fast. Soon he'll be off to day school (which feels as heart wrenching as if he going off to college) and I will be left with lots of time on my hand with nothing much to do. The prospect scares me. I've never been free in my life and that's something I don't want to be. 

Life has been all about Tiny-one. It's surprising how in the last few months I have forgotten what life was like before. I suppose I will have to start again. Do something so that I don't spend my time waiting and wanting. 

It will be a new life, and I am looking forward to it being an awesome one.