While the boys were in Sunday School, Baby I and I found a seat together to watch the Easter Program. Before things started, Baby I got some compliments on her new dress:
Today, though, a little girl on the very edge of the group on the side Baby I and I were sitting on caught my attention. She was adorable, a little pixie in a pretty green dress. She was so little and dainty and she just looked too small to even be able to remember all of the moves of the dance. But she was completely into it and enjoying herself so much. And Baby I was mesmerized by her--just watched her and danced along with her and sang with the song. I couldn't help but think of how tiny my baby is and how people often have trouble believing she is almost seven months. I imagine the little pixie's parents run into the same problem. The little pixie was having such fun and Baby I was having just as much fun trying to sing and dance with her and staring at her the entire time--I couldn't help but think that someday, it might be Baby I up there, tiny and cute and completely in tune with the music and dance.
With the boys, I had thoughts like this all the time. Oh, someday, S will just love to do that. Someday, B will have so much fun trying that. Someday, S would look so handsome in a shirt like that. Someday, B will tell me things like that. I still do it with them, still look at them and imagine and wonder what their somedays will be.
To be honest, though, I can't remember ever doing that with Baby I before today. I am very much in the present with her, never thinking much beyond what today will be. The closest I come to somedays with her is thinking ahead to her next doctor's appointment. And I don't want to ask myself why, don't want to admit it is because I am afraid, don't want to admit that in this instance the fear wins. Her surgery has an excellent survival rate. In fact, I couldn't ask for a better one (well, unless it was not needing it at all). But if I think beyond today or tomorrow or next week, I fixate on that small percentage who don't make it. I don't want to think about that percentage, I don't want to entertain the idea that we could be one of those numbers. I don't want to someday be at the point I imagined Baby I at and have to mourn all over the loss of the dreams I once had. So I don't think about somedays, just today. And even though I miss the fun of the somedays, I just can't. Not now, maybe not ever. When the surgery is over, if all goes well, will I relax, will I start to think about somedays? Or will the fear always lurk in the corners and keep us in today? When can I look beyond tomorrow?