I have a ticking clock in my abdomen. *tick TOCK* *TICK TOCK*
It seems to have migrated there from my heart. Before I got married, I had a tick tocking heart. A heart yearning for a wedding ceremony involving the love of my life. It took my husband 5 years of togetherness to propose. But, I got that wedding ceremony. The pretty dress, the flowers, the beautiful red shoes I had always dreamed of wearing. Yep. I got it all. Even got my dad telling me dirty jokes as we walked down the isle. I laughed my way down the isle to my to my future in the same church that my parents got married in 30 some odd years ago. It was magical and magnificent all at the same time. It was all I had ever wanted.
And, then, well, that ticking clock, it migrated south. Not migrated south in terms of a northern seeking warmer weather. Oh no. I migrated to my uterus. And, it took up residence there. I was the proud owner of my very own tick tocking squatter in my womb. Great. Just what I need. Some days it was almost as if that clock was one of those alarm clocks with a radio - and that it was hosting all night raves with my fallopian tubes. That's how loud my lady parts were about getting the attention they craved.
But, I did finally manage to find the snooze button. I got pregnant shortly after the hubby and I tied the knot. For those 8 months or so we affectionately referred to her as our alien ape baby - alien for not knowing if she was a boy or girl, and ape because she gave me heart burn. Heart burn so bad that it that rivaled the flames of hell. And, at just 36 weeks of incubation she came kicking and screaming into this world. It was as if she couldn't get out fast enough.
And, that clock, it went quiet. For a LONG time. Madaline is a difficult child, a spirited child if you will. Oh...and she screamed. Like a banshee. All. The. Time.Screaming so bad that if you would think we were trying to skin her alive with a rusty spoon. It was awful. I credit the screaming with drowning out the ticking of the clock. It was almost as if it was afraid to be heard. Or perhaps because we got so much more than we bargained for with Madaline, that it was broke.
Until recently. And, it's back. With a vengeance. And, suddenly it feels as if time is passing me by. That's it has all gone by so fast. Too fast sometimes. And, I find myself trying to slow down time. That maybe, just maybe, if I can slow down time, the ticking will stop. The batteries in the clock will die. Because, honestly, we can not afford to indulge this clock. As much as we would both love too, we just can not. And, so I try to do things to run down the clock. I put off potty training, even thought I think she was ready a LONG time ago. My 2 1/2 year old baby still sleeps in a crib. I keep her nuks hidden in our junk drawer as I just can't bear the thought of throwing them away. I ache for my baby. Just a little more time with my baby.
And, yet, the more I treasure each of these moments, the more I savor them and let my heart soak them in, that louder the clock gets. The ticking. And the tocking. That is the sounds that I hear the most. Not Madaline's sweet voice or her infectious giggle. All I hear is ....tick tock, Tick TOCK, TICK TOCK. And finally I realized - each day that passes, each day that my baby gets older, the louder that tick tock becomes. At least it seems that way.
And, sadly, right now, the sound of my clock is so deafening - its all I can hear.