Tuesday, April 10, 2007

daycares

There's a daycare center in the building where I work and another one down the street from my house. So, every workday, at both ends of my commute, I can't help but see a parade of parents pushing strollers, holding babies, pulling toddlers by the hand. Will I become inured to the sight over time? Maybe. It's hard to tell. But not yet.

Of course it's the tiniest, newest babies that hurt the most. Especially the ones still light enough to carry, sleeping in their car seats, and the ones snuggled against their mothers so that all I can see is a little pink cap. If the parents catch me staring, they almost always smile. Everyone looks at babies.

When I notice a double stroller, I peer into it intently, hoping to see that one child is obviously older than the other. Or that they're both boys. Or that they're both girls. I ask myself why it should make a difference. But the answer's obvious -- it shows me exactly what I've lost. What's the opposite of "there but for the grace of G-d go I?"

8 comments:

Sara said...

When I see babies, I look away. Toddlers I like.

Magpie said...

There but for a twist of fate...but your turn will come, somehow, someday.

LIW (Lady In Waiting) said...

Babies are tough. Twin babies must be excruciating for you.

Can you listen to a book on tape or something in your car to try to distract you? Or maybe scream really loudly with your windows closed. It might help to get some of those feelings out.

There's just no easy way around it.

Nicole said...

Like Sara, I can coo at toddlers, but babies are still a mighty struggle for me.

Aurelia said...

Babies I don't mind, mostly because I have moments of babylust. I have trouble with the ones who are exactly the same age or gender as any of my lost children. Drives me crazy...

Anonymous said...

I stare sometimes. I look away sometimes. It doesn't make any difference what I do.

Julia said...

I have seen the baby who was supposed to be my son's best friend three times now. He is very cute, and looks nothing like my son, for which I am incredibly grateful. That one twinges still. But the girl baby of a friend who was supposed to be two months older and was in fact born three weeks before he died? Not hard at all. If it was somebody else's baby it might feel different...

Mrs. Collins said...

I always look. MAybe I'm looking to see if it looks like Jimmy and I can have another reminder of his face.