…in which I talk about the occasional surreal phenomenon of parenthood.
Ansel was born very early in the morning, and subsequently, I was up until a ridiculous hour with him and Heather just reveling in his existence. I think I finally got to bed around 4:30 am after everything was said and done. When I woke up the next morning, around 7 or 8, I was obviously a little groggy. Strangely enough, while I accepted the fact that I gad been asleep on the least comfortable cot I’ve ever had the displeasure of pressing flesh to, I wasn’t completely aware of the circumstances of my being there. I could see Heather in the bed next to me, and I could see the bassinet at the foot of said bed, but my mind was incapable of putting it all together. I couldn’t figure out how we had gotten there or why. I tried to piece together all the events that had led up to that morning, including the nine months of pregnancy. All of it was very improbable in my waking mind and I actually had to consciously rebuild the last two thirds of my year.
In time, I woke up enough and reached out and picked up Ansel and things started to fall back into place. My mind was able to make sense of the whirlwind that seemed like such a long time when we trudged day to day through Heather’s pregnancy, but now that he Ansel was born, seemed like a brief spark of time. Every now and then, I’ll find myself on the couch, looking at Ansel sitting in his excersaucer, or swinging in his swing, and I will have that same moment of confusion. “How did I get here? When did this all of this happen? Where did he come from?” Its usually a brief flash of a moment, like that tickle just before you sneeze, and then, like a sneeze, my brain kicks back in and I remember every amazing and exciting moment that led to the point that I’m at.
I actually hope that these brief “blackouts” will continue because they give me a moment to reflect on how great Ansel is.
Originally posted at K. Close III
You can comment at kclose3.com