PhotoStory Friday: My Affliction

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

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That face. The way you crinkle your nose as the wind brushes along your face. The way you look at me, your eyes peering up through your tiny soft lashes. Your bow-shaped lips slowly part and I see the sweet beginnings of a smile. Your eyes widen and the swirling pools of color spring to life.

I could drowned in those eyes.


Those hands. One moment they flail around, moving the air, reaching for the sun. Simple things become jewels of wonderment in those hands. With each curious touch, your hands reveal the magic of first knowledge.

I admire those hands.


That body. You crawl walk, run and I watch as the soft slopes of your limbs move to the rhythm of a soundless song. Your boundless energy is infectious as the world becomes your playground.

I crave your freedom.

Your laugh dances its way to my ears and a smile slowly creeps across my face. I feel my heart thump mercifully in my chest, fighting the emotion to no avail.

Who are you, sweet baby? For you are not mine.

I'm in awe of children that are not mine. It is my affliction.

This child . . .

is the baby, enveloped by the tranquil sounds of nature, slumbering in the stroller at the park.

is the doe-eyed girl who trades giggles with her mother over a simple picnic lunch.

is the anxious tow-headed boy who is eager to please his father as they toss a ball between them.

is the toddler who is figuring out the limitless capabilities of her body as she stumbles her way across the floor.

You are the cause of my affliction, sweet baby J . . .

I have a love for you that knows no bounds . . .

In your eyes I see hope.
In your face I see curiosity.
In your body I see determination.
In your hands I see discovery.

And now, I see it in every child . . .

Before J came into my life I admired children from afar. I relished in their innocence. I was touched by their unblemished spirit. I was inspired by their open minds and forgiving souls.

But now with J in my life, each time I see a child my heart swells and my seams break open. Be it in a store, a park, at an event, or anywhere, I am instantly engaged. "What is your teddy bear's name?" "Is red your favorite color." "Wow, you are such a good walker, little man!"," I'll bet your mommy made that for you," "What would you like to be when you grow up?"

They are happy to answer my questions, to lean in close when I speak to them. They laugh when I make a silly face. They give me their broadest smiles and biggest belly laughs.

I can't help but wonder what happened to me . . .

Have I been drugged?

Am I part of an alien experiment?

Am I going crazy? (please let it be aliens!)

But I know the answer.

I'm now a mother . . . I still find it hard to believe. The moment Baby J came to be I was afflicted.

And although I know that the minute I see the screaming-crying-temper-tantrum-throwing-back-talk-talking-eye-rolling-kinda kid . . . I may have a change of heart.

But until then . . .

I will never go looking for a cure . . .

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