Motherhood

My second posting tonight.  This usually won’t happen.  Heck, this will NEVER happen.  But I just received wonderful news and now I’m feeling sad.  Yes, you read that right.

My husband has a young cousin named Casie - the daughter of the man he’s named after.  She’s funny and witty and sarcastic; I call her my “should-have-been” daughter.  Her personality is more like my husband and me than the rest of their family (mother and sister excluded).

Her father passed away seven years ago.  When Casie got married last year, my husband proudly and humbly walked her down the aisle.  When she found out she had gotten pregnant on her Disney honeymoon – totally unplanned, by the way – she sent me a text to let us know because, ironically, we were at Disney at the time.  A warning of sorts.

Tonight, Casie is having her baby boy.  And I am having a bad case of the melancholies.  I’m as proud as a grandmother, as excited as a friend, and as jealous as woman well past her child-bearing years. 

Don’t get me wrong – I am THRILLED that Casie is becoming a mother.  Every woman should be able to experience the joy of motherhood.  And have to suffer through the trials of it, as well.  It’s not as if I want another child.  Good Lord, no.  At one time, I may have considered it.  Sometimes I wish our daughter had a sibling to play with and grow old with.  And I adore babies.  But I know we made the right decision to stop at one.  And our one is worth a million.  But still…

Why are women built this way?  It hardly seems fair.  We’re the caring, selfless, compassionate sex, after all.  Shouldn’t we be ecstatic for other mothers?  Shouldn’t we feel joy at our own ventures in motherhood?  Why the jealousy?  The regret?  The sadness?

I know this, too, shall pass.  We’ll go see Casie in a couple of weeks and coo over her precious baby boy.  We’ll take too many gifts and I’ll give him too many kisses.  I’ll get the warm fuzzies and be too clingy to my own little family for a few days.  And then life will get back to normal.  I’ll have other things to worry about and to be happy about and Casie will have the unenviable job of caring for a newborn with little sleep and more questions than answers.  Life will continue.

Tonight, I will turn on an old movie, curl up under the covers, and drift off into a slightly sad, very excited, and supremely proud sleep.  And tomorrow, I will see the first pictures of my “should-have-been” daughter and my “should-have-been” grandson.  I can’t wait.