Iris, the Practical Joker

I think the most common advice I get from current parents is that I won’t be able to completely fathom the feelings I will have for Iris until she is actually here. Amidst all the discussions about completely dependent human beings and someone that is so fun/cute/etc is this instinctive reaction to being a parent that you don’t understand until you’ve actually done it. It’s as if there’s some unique adrenaline rush that doesn’t go away for the rest of your life. I’ll admit that I am ill-prepared for what’s to come, but I am probably more aware than they realize. You see, my mom was extremely effusive in her love and affection for me. I was her world and the day my brother was born, her kids were her world. She was never shy in sharing how much I meant to her or how she’d give up her world for me. At 12, it’s just sort of embarrassing. As I turn 34 today, I’m saddened by the thought of having Iris come into this world without her around. It will ten years this coming January since my mom passed away. She never got to meet Cherise (who I am certain she would have loved) and she’ll never get to meet her granddaughter. I don’t know who will miss out more in that case. My mom always wanted a girl (who are we kidding—she named me Sandy!). She loved babies and always dreamed of grandkids, especially the girl she never had on her own As for Iris, she’ll never get to know what I got to know—someone who gave selflessly and tirelessly for many years. So while I am certain to be overwhelmed by the feelings of being a parent, I think I know what I’m getting into–I’ve see it first-hand. I only hope I can give of myself to Iris what my mother did for me…