First of all, let me make one thing clear. One should never be separated from their baby for more than a few days. Period.
For one week, seven days, or one hundred and sixty-eight hours, way too many seconds to count Jude stayed in New York with his Grandparents and Aunts while Matt and I ventured to Portland, Oregon.
In my opinion, the first and last nights are the most trying. The first because it’s the beginning of experiencing the acute sense of loss or something missing that begins in the pit of your stomach and travels up to the dangly thing bobbing in your throat. You can barely process that you still have six unbearable nights ahead.
The last night is equally enduring because I knew it was a matter of hours before I’d be seeing Jude again, but first I had to get through the last twelve hours. The result? A heart-wrenching sleepless night as I lay awake, wanting to hold and cuddle him.
For the most part in Portland, Matt and I were both occupied, dropping off resumes, avoiding saturnine vagabonds begging for spare change (one guy took a really straight-forward approach by asking, “Can you help me get intoxicated today?”), learning the geography of the city and going for job interviews. I still missed Jude, but daily phone calls to his doting Grandma sufficed as I was provided with a run-down of each day’s activities.
I’ll admit that initially I was somewhat exhilarated by the concept of having time to myself; the ability to catch a movie at night, to peruse Powell’s the country’s largest independently owned bookstore, without a cumbersome stroller, the freedom to do what I wanted on my clock.
The euphoria quickly faded, as I found myself drawn to young families with babies in the numerous Portland parks, squares and riding around on the free public transit. To a stranger, I must have looked like a sappy, somewhat deranged woman as I salivated over chirping and drooling babes alike. I nearly cried buying a sling to transport Jude in, as I perused a photo album displaying gleeful infants, babies and toddlers attached to their back-pain free parents.
Yesterday morning Matt and I drove over to Becky’s house to retrieve the baby. I could hardly contain my excitement as I’d woken up at 7 a.m. and occupied myself by doing countless loads of laundry, cleaning out the refrigerator and returning calls. In other words, I was anxious and jittery, not knowing what to do with myself.
By 10 we were in the car, remarking on the trees changing colors, and by 11 we arrived at Becky’s house in Ridgefield, where we were greeted by the barking, short-legged dogs. Although Jude was asleep when we arrived, after chatting with Becky, Matt snuck upstairs and retrieved him.
First thing that struck me was his hair! No longer thin, it seemed to have thickened and grown overnight. His face, less baby and more boy, was still flushed pink from recently waking up had more of a solid look. I was shocked that in addition to looking older, he must have gained about a pound or so. Becky told me what a little piggy he was, shoving food into his mouth while grasping an apple slice as though it were his last meal.
Smitten with his daddy, Jude refused to come to me initially, much to my dismay. I began worrying, “Does he not remember me?! How could he not know his mommy-the person who didn’t sleep for the first four months of his life...who breastfed at all hours and endured a horrendous labor!” From the kitchen as she prepared lunch, Becky yelled out to me on the porch, “Jude is mad at you!”
Finally, I won him over with Big Boob, and as he tucked his legs into his belly and his eyes rolled back in bliss, I marveled over how much he changed during my week of absence.
Back at home, I discovered a third tooth emerging, next to the bottom two on his lower gum line. Jude’s scootering skills have also been perfected, as he expertly maneuvers his rotund body to slide, as he crawls and shimmies to the desired destination. Although Jude still greatly resembles Matt, I’m seeing more of my brothers, particularly blond-haired, blue-eyed Chris.
Cozy in his new green JUDE blanket, Jude is fast asleep upstairs as I write this. Even though I am grateful for the opportunity to have gone out to Portland, I can’t imagine leaving him for a week again at least not until he’s a teenager and by that time I’ll be grateful for a week away!