Is This Real Life?

Cal was born 5 and a half weeks early and even though he was perfectly healthy it took me a long time, over a month, to really believe that he was going to live and that he wasn't terribly hurt or retarded by his early arrival. On the day we took him home I even quizzed the nurse, 'Does he look ok, does he look normal to you?' She laughed and replied, 'Yes of course.' But no-one had actually ever confirmed this, and every time we entered the neo-natal ward I expected that this would be the time where they'd sit us down and say, 'We're really sorry, but he's just not gonna make it.' When I told David about these thoughts he'd gently reassure me that I was insane. But I think it's the opposite of insanity, that the defence-mechanism feeling that this beautiful baby is a temporary bliss and that you shouldn't get too attached is a pretty reasonable one. A friend of mine, who has a 9 month old, was shopping for clothes and came across some discounted pieces for 2 year olds, but hesitated to buy them, thinking who am I to assume I'll still have him a year from now. Another friend confided that she had "killed her son so many times," imagining the horrors that could befall him. So for the first few months I was definitely smitten with our new baby boy, but it was this week when he started to imitate me, copying my cooing and giggles, that I really felt it. It was like that scene in E.T. when E.T. starts to imitate Elliot and the boy realizes that he's dealing with a sentient being, and someone who could be his friend. Suddenly the stakes are raised and there's no turning back. It felt wonderful to finally, absolutely, without-a-doubt communicate after all these months but also scary-as-shit. It was a freight-train of emotion and moment of terrifying realization. Because, now, it's on. He's here to stay. Come scraped knees, heartache and possibly much worse, we're in it for the long haul. This kid is real and he's ours.

Cal, 14 weeks