I have not been able to stop thinking about my "illogical desire" lately. And it's good that I've been thinking so much about it because I've learned a little something. I am not so sure I want another baby as I want Ben to stay this age forever.
While all of my children are special, there is something SPECIAL about Ben. Ben is a giant bundle of love and goodness. He is gentle and tough, sweet and sinister, sensitive and strong. There is something about the simplicity of his language that is very powerful.
He had tubes put in his ears yesterday, which was this mom's first experience with her children and general anesthesia. By the time we were taken into pre-op, Ben had gone 16 hours without food or drink. His little brain was so very confused about this. And then we watched him evolve from confused to depressed. He was cuddling in my lap and every so often, he'd look up at me with his sweet brown eyes and say, "A-wa?" A few minutes would go by and he'd look up at me again and say, in his soft little voice, "Home?" After a while, he'd just look, with his brow crinkled, and say "Peas?" (Please).
When we finally went to pre-op, Ben was heartbroken over the poking and prodding. I would imagine most kids would get mad about this, but Ben would just cry as though his best friend had moved away. He was so upset about the hospital bracelet being put on that the anesthesiologist said, "As long as he's this upset, let's just put him under right now." So, with my sweet boy in my arms, they covered his face with the anesthesia mask and he fell gently asleep. We moved him to the operating bed and that was the last I saw of him until I caught a glimpse of his little blond mop of hair peaking out from under the blankets on his way to recovery.
When I arrived at recovery, he was still fast asleep. After a bit he opened first one eye, then both eyes, then he looked at my face and said, "Daddy?" I told him that Daddy would be back in a minute. He thought if over and said, "Home?"
I sat him up, he had a popsicle, and off we went.
The thing about Ben is that he is just so sweet. At 2 and a half, he is still very content to be held on my lap, tummy to tummy with his head on my shoulder, to be rocked to sleep, for us to lie in bed for hours looking at books. "See, Mom, see?" he says as he points to the pictures.
The thought of him growing up and growing out of this is just too much for me. I want to freeze him in time. I am not ready to let go.