Today I watched him sleep. I turned out the lights, I nursed him, cuddled him, and then I watched him sleep in my arms. So peaceful, he let his soother drop from his mouth and nestled into the crook of my arms. I used to nap with Sacha twice a day, as it was the only way he would sleep. Now, he is used to napping on his own, and I usually put him in his crib and carry on about my day.
Today was different. I couldn’t put him down. He was so calm, so happy, so sleepy. I looked at him and tried to imagine what he would become in his future: a doctor? a teacher? a priest? a rockstar? Would he end up on the street with all of his possessions in a backpack? Or would he be a lucky one who has a warm home with a wife and children to come home to each night. Or a husband, for that matter.
What will he look like? Will he need glasses? Will he be overweight? Will he be attractive? Will he break many hearts? I hope not, but at the same time, I hope he does. I hope he’s the guy that all the girls pine over, but that he has the sense to pick the right one and treat her well. I hope he’s romantic, but not a sissy. I want him to be poetic and to stand up for what is right, but know when it’s ok to back down and let someone else take the reigns.
Will he still love me when he’s a teenager? When he’s married and his wife cringes at the thought of her mother-in-law coming to visit? Or will he just humour me, bring me a card on mother’s day and be too busy to visit the rest of the year?
As he slept, my mind drove into a ravine of wonderment. As I wondered, I, too, fell asleep. And awoke to the sounds of a happy boy playing with his soother and gabbing at my smile.
It doesn’t matter what happens or how he turns out: he’s my baby and will always be my light.