I Don’t Do Babies Anymore.

by Tomaca Govan

I can put a period on the end of that sentence. Me and babies are over for good. Don’t get me wrong, I think they are among the most beautiful entities on the planet – having just arrived and being so very close to the Creator. They’re beautiful God-like entities — spiritual capsules. Children come to us with they’re minds wide open.

We recently celebrated my mother’s 85th birthday and all the generations were there. The five month old twins were the highlight of the party. Besides the fact that they were the newest great grandchildren to join the herd, they smiled at everyone; they laughed; they shared themselves by letting anyone hold them. They were beautiful. Look into their eyes and you see nothing but peace and beauty. The parents of these kids are doing an excellent job.

I admired them from a distance. Just once did I reach over to let one of them grasp my finger as I enjoyed her radiant smile. For the rest of the time I simply took joy in watching everyone else hold them and took solace in the fact that they weren’t mine. Diapers, feedings — babies are no longer for me. Almost 50, I feel a major disconnect with little ones. I’ve spent the last 28 years dealing with my own kids who were all seven years apart and now it’s time to do me. My daughter will joke with me about not expecting grandchildren too soon and I always reply “don’t worry, this is one grandmother who is just not interested right now.” She knows not to ever look for a babysitter over here. At least not right now – not for the next several years. I want time for me. I need time for me. The time I never took because I started with children at the age of 20.

When you don’t know. Then you don’t know. At the age of 20, I didn’t know what life was and what I should have been doing with myself and my time. It sounds as if I have regrets. I don’t. To me, my children are beautiful and to be able to look back at my memories of raising them is wonderful. I remember all the goods things. I remember looking into their eyes as babies and feeling wonderment. I remember those moments of incredible joy. Even now, I can picture myself looking at my daughter through the glass window of the hospital nursery and feeling awe. My children a tremendous joy and those times were good ones.

Since then, I’ve moved on and couldn’t possibly see myself doing it again, or sitting around rocking grandchildren. The thought of such things makes me shudder. I am all for anyone else that wants to indulge in what I do consider to be a beautiful way to spend time, but don’t put me down for a rocking chair yet! I’ve got more of me to do. And, should I become a grandmother very soon – sorry kids, you won’t find me hanging around with a rocking chair. Look to great grandma to do that right now!

tomaca

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