I lay here and watch her eat
My baby girl, who’s only 4 months old. Not often do I think of the future, our future, her future because it is simply too hard to grasp. I still can’t even believe she is here.
But in this moment, just for a brief minute, I think to myself about everything I saw and went through as a child, a teenager and newly adult.
I picture her in my shoes; as the popular kid, the unwanted “weirdo”, and the genius loner sitting in a corner of the cafeteria by herself because nobody understands why the teacher favors her grades and delightful attitude over rambunctious behavior.
I lay here and watch her play and I’m amazed, because, she too will learn unthinkable lessons over the years. But, I worry about her being the kid, picked on because of a simple difference. I worry about her not having friends or feeling left out, due to the lack of care of her peers.
This worries me the most
Because kids don’t think like parents until they become one themselves. I never thought of my parents the same as my school friends and neither will she. She will never look at me in that way. Not until she becomes a mother, to a child of her own. And that is frightening. She will probably never take my word when I tell her how amazing she is and how she is worthy of the greatest things in life.
Society will instill fear, and she will be taught to loathe rather than love herself. She will learn to push me outside of a closed door, never allowing me to know her deepest secrets or impending worries.
I lay here watching her smile, clueless and uncaring about the world she is growing into. I want to pull her to my chest and keep her young and innocent forever. Unaware of the destruction this cruel world will bring to her precious heart. She is an angel and has changed my world in so many beautiful ways, so I know she has the power to do that for others too.
I lay here watching her sleep, not a bad dream in her mind
Only ones where her toy slips away from her reach, but is soon replaced with a loving embrace and another meal.
Brief sadness, that is all she knows. I now know a mother’s sadness, her impending fear. And, I wish I had realized it when I too was in her shoes.
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