His Belly

I don't know if it's just my anxiety, The Great Yarn Crisis of 2006 or simply a matter of an upset belly, but every time Duncan doesn't feel well I get sick with worry. Aside from being entirely too selfish, this is why I would not make a good parent. I would never sleep, would spend my nights laying awake listening to the breathing of my child, resting my hand on their chest to measure the reassuring rise and fall of each breath they took. I would never let them leave the house without me there to hold their hand, ready to protect them from each and every thing that could do them harm. I would stand anxiously on the perimeter of whatever space they occupied––a playground, a street corner, a college common yard––ready to step in and save them from whatever dangerous intrusion the world has to offer up. Their spouse would quickly grow tired of me, their shrink––and oh, there would be a shrink, a fleet most likely––would encourage them to establish boundaries, and their neighbors would file restraining orders. No, I would not make a good parent.

I am entirely too paranoid and far too susceptible to imagine the worst things possible. I just don't like to hear Duncan gulp the way he does when he's on the verge of vomiting. It terrifies me to stand idly by while he sniffs for clean grass and gulps it down once he's found it. I don't like the way my mind makes the leap from simple upset stomach to the end of the world. And so I make rice, stir in hard boiled eggs and mix it with a fresh batch of homemade yogurt, watching while he eats. I imagine sleepless nights and the stink of animal clinics and those pitying faces of the vets at Alameda East. I do not want to go down that path again and every hiccup and burp makes me wince like it happened only yesterday.

We'll cuddle on the couch tonight. I'll rest my hand on his side while he leans his head against my hip. I'll listen to every sound he makes ready to jump up and take him outside if necessary. I'll sleep with one eye open.

This is the only thing I know to do.