Then and Now

For weeks before this trip I've been fantasizing about the sleep, the sleeping, the snoozing, the napping, and all of the sleep I'd be doing. And, of course, about 10 minutes after saying goodbye to Jake and the kids I've just been missing them. I've been furtively watching other people's babies, looking at strollers and car seats everywhere around me, watching as moms hold their toddlers in their arms, maybe watching just a bit too long, wondering if maybe I could hold that baby for a while. Missing the heft of Milo as I lift him out of the crib, his soft cheek still warm from sleep. Missing the weight of Nora's head on my chest as she snuggles up against me.

Every time I hear a newborn crying I really really want to hold that baby and soothe her. I wonder if this ever goes away, or is it just a permanent change brought by motherhood? Will I still feel that longing in 20 years? When my children are too big to want to be held, will I miss that feeling of a baby's head resting on my shoulder?

The last time that this particular conference was held in this particular city, San Diego, the city where I attended grad school, was 5 years ago. It is weird to be back here now. 5 years ago my dissertation was due to my committee right around the same time that I had to give a talk for this conference. I was angry about a whole bunch of dissertation-related shenanigans I'd been dealing with. I gave my talk, which went well, and the next day I attended a symposium in which the discussant, in his talk, referenced my talk from the day before but attributed it to my advisor and not to me. I was mad about that, too. I was pretty much fed up with it all and after the symposium I got in my car and drove up the 5 to my apartment and I had the windows down and it was sunny and my favorite song came on, and I suddenly realized that I could choose to let go of my frustration and anger. I could just choose to stop it. So I did.

I turned in my dissertation and that weekend I took the day off and went to the wild animal park with my friend. It was the first day off I'd had since Christmas Day. I knew that I was leaving in a few weeks to move to the midwest. I knew I was going to be saying good-bye to San Diego permanently. I knew that everything was going to change, and boy did it. 5 years isn't that long but I can barely remember what it was like to be that person from April 2004. Now I have a mortgage and a husband and two kids and a job and two cats and I look about 15 years older. 

Back then I never noticed a baby crying. I never saw strollers or car seats. But now, even as I return to the city I used to call home, even as I attend talks and meetings and meet old friends for drinks or dinner, doing all of the same things I used to do back then, I am so changed. It's like the very cells of my body have been rearranged so that I cannot go anywhere without feeling the Nora- and Milo-sized holes in my heart.

Oh, and inexplicably, I woke up at 6 a.m. today. Sigh.