To Be Lovesick
“I have a sickness” I declared to him as I placed the little pieces of strawberry cake on the glass cake stand and set it amongst the flowers cascading off the table.
“Is it love?” Josh responded.
Yes, I think it is. Love in the form of my tiny muses, the physical manifestations of my heart torn in two, beating beside me on this earth.
To be lovesick. To be so lovesick that it prompts creating an elaborate, unnatural valentines themed scene in our living room on a cold February day in order to spark joy (apologies to Marie Kondo) in my children’s eyes and heart.
To be so lovesick that you lay anxiously awake at night before falling asleep, trying to slay the dragons of fear, What-If-isms, pondering all the hopes and dreams you have for those tiny humans you brought into this world.
To be so lovesick that you can’t recollect what that world was truly like before them, never to be who ever it was you were before them, again. I will never be that person again, I am forever changed. Forever a mother.
It is a sickness, I am lovesick.
And when I am much older, and much more grey, and the wrinkles have surrounded my eyes, I hope that I don’t soon forget the way Edyn yelled “C A K E!” as we turned the corner into the baked goods aisle at the grocery store. And the way she so lovingly looks at that piece of cake in her hand. And I hope I don’t soon forget the way I feel when Jacob looks at me with a beaming smile and runs his pitter-patter bare feet full force at me, throwing his arms around my neck and giving me the tightest hug that tiny 23lb body can with all his might. And I hope I don’t forget how excited Edyn got when I cut hearts out of the papers I let her and Jake paint at the kitchen table and hung them the tree branch. I hope I don’t soon forget any of it, I hope I don’t forget the way I have forgotten the life that was before them.
Yes I am lovesick and I hope there is no cure. Except for maybe the way I worry about them just before falling asleep at night. I wish there was a cure for that.
Happiest of days, my valentines.