The new baby

Five years ago Isaac was a five-day-old baby; twenty months ago Laurel was a three-day-old baby. Those were overwhelming times, full of exhaustion and physicality and wonderment.

When Isaac was born, I was completely focused on my new role as mother. But after the births of both my children, something strange happened that gave me a precious glimpse into what our blossoming relationship was like from their perspective.

In those early days I napped as much as possible, but it seemed like someone was always waking me up and bringing me a hungry baby to feed. I would sit up in bed, groggy but willing, and reach out my arms for the baby who needed me.

One afternoon when Isaac was less than a week old, I was napping when Craig brought him into the room. As I slept Craig spoke to me softly and gently, letting me know that I was needed soon, and slowly I began to wake up. I opened my eyes and saw the bedroom bright with sunlight. And then, suddenly, I became the new baby. My consciousness changed, becoming simpler and almost primal; I was an infant. I no longer had words, but I instinctively knew I was absolutely safe and adored. I felt cherished, protected, warm, secure. I was the center of everything. I was ecstatically happy.

The feeling passed quickly, lasting no more than five seconds, and it never happened again -- until Laurel was born. When she was less than a week old I had an identical experience.

It is difficult for me to describe in words what was essentially a nonverbal emotional experience. But it was truly awesome, and I felt like it gave me insight into the beautifully selfish baby brain.