my heavy heart

noah is the most beautiful boy. he has olive skin and gorgeous deep brown eyes. his hair is a shade or two darker than mine and somewhere between wavy and curly. he literally has the longest eyelashes i have ever seen. it's always the boys that get that, isn't it? he has eight teeth, four and top and four on the bottom, and he really knows how to use them. he's so strong. he started walking just a week before he turned 9 months, and has never stopped. people always say, "he's so sturdy! look at him go!" i can tell he's starting to lose his leg-chubs. he's so active, the only time he isn't running around is when he's sitting in his car seat or sleeping. even then he's kicking and rolling around. i wish i could convey to you how wonderful he is, but it's not even possible to put into words. he has this brightness about him; he is so joyful.

sometimes i think about what i would have been like if i had given him up for adoption. i don't think i could stand it. i think i would have become lost inside myself and overcome with longing. i think i would have sunk deeper still into the vortex i was spiraling down at the time i got pregnant. i would have tried to cope by occupying every spare moment of time with something, in an effort to fill that un-fillable hole that i know would be there if noah was gone. 

this is so hard.

this is the hardest thing in the world. staying up and wondering if i can give my child everything he needs. look at how many people could have been better if only their parents had done this or that better. look at how much pain people feel because their mother said this or did that. look at all the dangerous things in this twisted and depraved world that i can't save or protect him from. at times when i was pregnant i would feel guilty that i was bringing a child into such a crooked world. i can't watch the nightly news, and i haven't been able to since i found out i was pregnant. i left the room crying, and i still do. when i hear about three teenagers dead in a shooting, or a baby boy drowned or kidnapped, i think "that is someone's child. that is total and complete devastation. how will they survive?"

i often think about how noah will be a year from now, or two years, or five or ten. how old will he be the first time he tells me he hates me? how old will he be the first time he swears or falls into the temptation of his peers? how old will he be when i can't protect him from anything anymore? this is the hardest thing i've ever done, and what if this is the easy part?

sometimes the future is suffocating. sometimes it is too much to think of things in such long spans of time. taking things moment by moment is at least bearable, but at this moment, my heart is heavy. 

the truth is, i am scared of myself.