Saucer of Secrets

Last Thursday night while we were over at James and Jaime’s house we stuck Luke in the exersaucer for the second time. The first time we tried it he was still too floppy and couldn’t hold himself up. Last week he was strong enough to sit in it for a few minutes, so I dragged the exersaucer that Carl and Kathy loaned us up from the basement. Each day since then, Luke has been sitting in it for a few minutes at a time, building up his back strength, and figuring out how to bounce in the seat.

On Friday when Derek came home from work he looked in the living room, saw Luke in the exersaucer and said, “Hey, it’s the…saucer…something…saucer of secrets!” I laughed because he’s been reading Harry Potter lately and I thought it was a reference to “Chamber of Secrets”, but I was wrong. He was referring to the Pink Floyd album, actually titled, “Saucer of Secrets”. Luke will have an interesting childhood with a father who listens to Pink Floyd and a mother who listens to Doris Day. Speaking of music…

Saturday night Derek and I had 8 Luke-free hours together. We went to see Sheryl Crow perform in Winnipeg. I had been pumping milk all week getting ready for Saturday, doing laundry, stuffing diapers. I was so worried I would forget something. Well, I forgot to remember that Luke wasn’t coming. We got in the car and I suddenly felt bereft. I had been preparing Luke all week for a baby-sitter, but I hadn’t prepared myself!

It was amazing and wonderful to be alone with Derek for the first time since the night my parents drove Luke home in a separate car and gave Derek and me five minutes of privacy…in July. So what was wrong with me? I just felt like crying. At one point I told Derek I felt like I should be wearing a sign to let people know that I’m a mother, my baby is just staying with someone else for the evening. It felt kind of like when you forget to wear your wedding ring and you just feel naked all day. Except this was emotional. I was so happy, and relieved even, to be away from the baby for a bit, and at the same time hugely anxious and empty-feeling.

On the way home I was disappointed to realize that I had not fully taken advantage of being away since I spent most of my time trying not to be anxious. It was not that I had any specific fears for Luke, I just felt like I should be carrying someone, or remembering to grab a diaper bag, or wiping drool off his little face. All night long I felt like I was forgetting something very important.

We visited an old neighbor for a minute before dinner and she said we should challenge ourselves to not talk about Luke for thirty minutes. Without agreeing to it verbally, I think we both accepted the challenge. Strange - sometimes when Luke is with us and falls asleep I forget he’s even there. Or at least I thought I was forgetting. Maybe I was just becoming so accustomed to his presence that I stopped thinking about it as unique. When he really wasn’t there, I felt his absence like a lost limb.