My husband had just won the “Rookie of the Year” Award for being the “Top Salesman” of the eye-care company he worked for. He was scheduled to fly to Phoenix to accept it the day after he brought us home from the hospital. He didn’t think he should go, especially since I had just had a C-Section.
I, on the other hand, insisted that he pack his bags and get “on that plane!” He worked hard for his award and deserved to receive it in front of his peers. Over the next few days he’d have the opportunity to network with others from all across the country, which could only enhance our future. Thinking back on all of the years I had spent babysitting my brood of younger siblings made me realize I was prepared for this time in my life. I felt no reservations, nor anxiety about being alone with our 7 pound son. In fact, I relished the idea. I couldn’t wait to tip-toe into his room, peak over his crib and gently rest my palm on his beating heart. I looked forward to rocking him in my cradled arms, snuggling while humming hushed lullabies within his ears, alone.
Together, my infant son and I could survive for weeks alone. The refrigerator had been stocked with food of all sorts including gallons of milk for me to drink. As for my baby, my body held the only nourishment he needed. How convenient! His nursery was filled with diapers and clothes, blankets, ointments, and every piece of baby paraphernalia one could imagine. We would be fine. Of course, my parents were just a phone call away. Knowing my husband, he had arranged for them to “drop by” unannounced within the next day or so.
Every night my husband called from Phoenix, promptly at 10pm. He sat outside by campfire along-side a saguaro cactus, telling me tales of business meetings and award dinners. Still, I could hear the longing in his voice. He couldn’t wait to get back to the two of us, his new family who waited for him nestled among the snowbanks of Michigan. Across the country, on the other end of the line I lulled our infant son to sleep. Frosted ice patterns decorated our outside glass window panes. They seemed to whisper good-night wishes to my far away husband through shining shadows of the moon.
“Daddy’s coming home soon, I promise.”