Sunday, October 5, 2008
A Fissure in My Heart
Tonight at dinner I tried to play a familiar game with my "baby." I like to ask her to tell me who she is or what her name is. Her reply is usually something along the lines of "Kenna Benna," "Kenna Woah-sie" or just "Kenna Woes." I love these replies; hearing them is why I ask the question in the first place.
Well, tonight when I handed her a plate of spaghetti and said, "Here you go, Baby. Wait, what's your name?" my breath caught in my throat when her immediate response was a clearly pronounced, "Kenna Rose." When did this happen? When did my sweet baby learn to say the "r" sound correctly?
I seriously had to scold myself for thinking my heart is broken. I recognize that reaction might be a little over-the-top, but I am going to allow myself to say that my heart has a small tear in it now. A baby tear for the lack of baby in my life.
Perhaps I am extra sensitive because I have never, in all my ten years as a mother, had a three year-old and not had another baby (either in or out of the womb). Maybe that's why I need this three year-old to act like (or sound like) a baby a little longer.