Mom and son going it alone

Scott is visiting friends out of town tonight, so Jackson-man and his mother are fending for themselves. Since Jackson is currently in dream-land, I guess that means that I am fending for myself. And what have I chosen to do with my time, you might ask? Embarrassingly enough, I just finished a WAY-late thank you note to my OBGYN, thanking her for... uh... DELIVERING my babies. Yes, that was 7 1/2 months ago. But, as I wrote in the note, I am clinging to the hope that the event of delivering babies might be put in the same category as the event of weddings: proper etiquette states you are allowed a full year afterwards to provide the appropriate gifts/cards.

Anyway, in so many words, I wrote, "Thanks for providing me the greatest miracle of my life so far." Like a card is good enough to express that. But what else is there, a membership to the Fruit of the Month club? I recently sent a thank you letter to Duncan's doctors too. It's so odd to bring closure to the medical professionals who have given care to Jackson (and especially) Duncan...

I want to bake them cookies. I want to know their families. I want to let them know how much their role in Duncan and our lives altered us forever. I know that what they did was a job. But they didn't make it feel that way to us. In the letter I mailed Dr. G, Dr, Cheatham, Dr. Cua and Becky Corbitt (all surgeons, cardiologists, and family care personnel), I wrote, "Matters of the heart (literally) are more than medical; they’ve been personal to us." And so, among other reasons, this is why I have taken so long to try to find "the perfect" words for thank you's. I finally gave up (on "perfect" in general!) and went with basic words to communicate the obvious.

I'll tell you something else weird about the change of being a mom (besides giving up on "perfect" - wait, as was clear by my ragamuffin clothes and pony tail choice of hair style BEFORE babies, was I ever that much into perfect? Guess not):

WORRYING ABOUT MY HUSBAND'S SAFETY. I've always had the abundance mentality... the glass-is-half-full outlook... the optimistic way of seeing the world. It will always work out. Everyone always gets where they're going safely. And nobody bad in the world would ever hurt anybody... Some people call it "naivety." I call it... Oh, alright... "naivety." I've known this about myself for quite some time and, although "naive" comes with it a tad bit of a negative connotation, I've chosen to stick with it. It's gotten me this far. Why neglect this charming feature now!?

That is, UNTIL I HAVE A BABY AT HOME and his father is a few minutes late from work, without explanation. Or I call his father's cell during a rain storm when I know he's on the road and he doesn't pick up. Or when his father is on a road trip like the one tonight in a VW Jetta that has seen better days. Don't worry, I refuse to give in to the temptation to be an incessant worrier. But whereas before Scott was just "my husband" (the "care factor" was kinda low with that title alone... just teasing, I prefer to think of it as "worry factor"), he is now "my husband"
and "my child's father" as well. Geez. That means I am no longer just Scott's wife, but I am also his child's mother. These dual roles have kicked a large portion of that naive, carefree, non-worrying chick in me right out of me!

I still choose to be carefree, but carefully (oxymoron?). There's a lot more Scott and I are caring for these days and whose care is relied upon. Whew. I'm worn out thinking about it. I'm gonna read brainlessly now.