Sunday, July 10, 2011
In a lot of traditional cultures (so I've heard), new moms and babes are given 40 days during which they are protected and sheltered, excused from participation in day-to-day activities, fed special foods, and generally expected to just rest, recuperate and get to know each other.
Of course this tradition is not part of our/my modern culture, but I have kept it in my mind these past few weeks. Each time I decided to lay down in bed to watch the fan wave Adrian's hair in the breeze, or took a cool bath with him in the middle of the day, or gave the kids cheese and crackers for dinner, I though of this tradition. 'We're still in our 40 days" I would tell myself as the laundry piled up and giant dust bunnies blew across the floor like tumbleweeds.
But now our 40 days are up. And just on cue, Adrian has woken up. His baby acne went away over night. He holds his head up and looks around, eyes big and dark. He fusses when left alone and smiles when someone comes to rescue him. So, it's time to take up some of my responsibilities again--I'm going to the grocery store today. I still have a few precious weeks of maternity leave left, but soon that will be over and Adrian will have to learn to take a bottle and be comforted by others besides me. So bittersweet...