My Baby’s Leaving

I haven't slept, really slept, in 26 years.

For those of you who are still looking forward to becoming parents, for those of you who might not even be 26 years old yet yourselves, this might seem impossible. But I assure you it's true.

I've heard of babies who sleep through the night. Occasionally, a fortunate couple produces one of these miracles and brags to the rest of us pathetic schmucks until they're blue in the face, or until we wish they were.

Do they really imagine that it's their own magic touch--and not some stroke of mercy inexplicably bestowed upon them by a benevolent Savior--which has resulted in a life of peace, quiet, and restful sleep?

I'm not bitter, at least not anymore. There comes a point in the downward spiral of sleep deprivation where there's no energy left for negative emotion. Emotion is sucked up by exhaustion.

So last night, the first night Kevin was back in town after his nine-day road trip to the east coast, Kevin wasn't home at all. But I kept expecting him to roll in, kept expecting to see his headlights reflected in the window across from my bed as he sped up our long and winding road.

Midnight turned to one o'clock and then two. I'd long since gotten up from the bed, because Doug and I managed to take turns tossing, keeping each other awake in the process. I sat in the recliner in Doug's office, reading a novel and praying for my son. Finally, I called him.

"When will you be home?"

"I'm dropping John off now. So another 45 minutes or so."

"Kevin, I'm done. It's been 26 years of feeding, changing, screaming, puking, crying, driving, partying, and road-tripping. And that's just what happens when I'm trying to sleep. I can't do this anymore. Please, in the name of all that's holy, move out."

"You mean tomorrow?"

"..."

"Mom...I love you."

I love him, too.

It's now almost noon, and he's just awakened. He comes in my bedroom where I sit writing.

"It's gonna take me a few more trips to get my stuff over to the apartment. So, can I spend one more night here?"

I remember back to the day when he was six and told me the wonderful plan he had for his life. "I'm going to get married, Mom. But don't worry. When I find a girl, I'll bring her home to live with you."

Can he spend one more night here? This boy, the youngest of the three best gifts God's ever given us, hears the music winding down, but somehow knows the dance isn't quite finished yet.

"One more night," I hear myself say. "But then, Kevin, I'm going to need a little sleep."

He smiles and kisses me. "Thanks, Mom."

And he really means it.

"For now," I say, "I must write..."

"Let me guess the title." His eyes twinkle like they've done every day his whole life. "My Baby's Leaving."

God, I'll miss this man.

Posted by Katy on 06/15/05 at 11:35 AM

Fallible Comments...

Sweet story...
-----
Posted by Bridget on 06/15/05 at 07:07 PM
Aww!!! Official empty nester! Well, don't worry, I'll be home for a couple days this wknd if you're feeling like you're getting too much sleep.
Posted by Carrie on 06/16/05 at 12:14 AM
Oh, and you did offer up your casa if I have surgery next month....hee, hee. Be careful of what you wish for... :)
Posted by Bridget on 06/16/05 at 01:25 AM
gol-LY, katy, you sure leave a mom nodding her head in knowing, then laughing, then pre, pre-lamenting the inevitable empty nest, approximately (probably) sixteen or so years from now. if the last decade was any prediction of things to come, that time will fly. thanks for another peek into your honest to goodness mama heart :)
Posted by lisa on 06/16/05 at 04:04 AM
To say I can relate is a wild understatement. I cannot tell you how many nights like this my husband and I have had lately. Like you, I sit up and wait, and pray, and then call and ask. My sleeplessness has only lasted 19 years, but in a couple of weeks my son will leave and enter a demanding technical school from which he will in two years time (God willing) emerge with a good job in hand that will most likely not be in our small town. What I want to know is, will I continue to watch for his headlights when he is 1800 miles away?
Posted by Jeanne on 06/16/05 at 05:58 AM
Katy, you so captured the ambivalent bittersweetness of being a mom of kids who are growing up and leaving the nest. My own baby is 18, and although she will probably stick around here for community college, I know the day is coming...

When she graduated at the end of May, my older son and his wife came up from Texas, and my younger son is home from college. When I hopped into bed I sighed, "All my chicks under one roof!" That doesn't happen very often these days.
Posted by Cindy Swanson on 06/16/05 at 02:27 PM
Thanks, you guys. The man Kevin just left, and I'm bawling my head off...
Posted by Katy on 06/16/05 at 07:57 PM
I gotta tell you that the other night my son called to tell me he hurt himself at work and he wanted to tell me about it. (He's in construction.) He has a perfectly good wife but it was like he had a boo-boo and he wanted his mommy to kiss it.

I know I did a good job of raising them and the time comes when they're supposed to want to leave. I'm supposed to want them to leave because they need their independence. But it's difficult at first. You'll be okay and so will he. Be sure to always be available to kiss his boo-boos.
Posted by Paula on 06/21/05 at 09:13 PM

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Personal blog of christian writer & fallible mom Katy McKenna Raymond in Kansas City, Missouri Katy is represented by Greg Johnson at WordServe Literary Read more Katy at LateBoomer.net Follow Katy on Twitter Follow Katy on Facebook 123 Recent Posts Try Becoming Brenda Starr Off Beat Scattered That’s It So I’ve Finally Signed With An Agent. Now What? The Spoon Sciatica Sweetheart A Woman’s Train of Thought Has No Caboose However much we own, we are all still living on borrowed time After all, when restaurants shrink portions, they don’t shrink prices. As with everything in life, balance is key. Slow down, you move too fast… Yeah, I know. I have issues. Search Advanced Search Syndicate Login E me at katy @ ngenius.com	My Baby’s Leaving I haven't slept, really slept, in 26 years. For those of you who are still looking forward to becoming parents, for those of you who might not even be 26 years old yet yourselves, this might seem impossible. But I assure you it's true. I've heard of babies who sleep through the night. Occasionally, a fortunate couple produces one of these miracles and brags to the rest of us pathetic schmucks until they're blue in the face, or until we wish they were. Do they really imagine that it's their own magic touch--and not some stroke of mercy inexplicably bestowed upon them by a benevolent Savior--which has resulted in a life of peace, quiet, and restful sleep? I'm not bitter, at least not anymore. There comes a point in the downward spiral of sleep deprivation where there's no energy left for negative emotion. Emotion is sucked up by exhaustion. So last night, the first night Kevin was back in town after his nine-day road trip to the east coast, Kevin wasn't home at all. But I kept expecting him to roll in, kept expecting to see his headlights reflected in the window across from my bed as he sped up our long and winding road. Midnight turned to one o'clock and then two. I'd long since gotten up from the bed, because Doug and I managed to take turns tossing, keeping each other awake in the process. I sat in the recliner in Doug's office, reading a novel and praying for my son. Finally, I called him. "When will you be home?" "I'm dropping John off now. So another 45 minutes or so." "Kevin, I'm done. It's been 26 years of feeding, changing, screaming, puking, crying, driving, partying, and road-tripping. And that's just what happens when I'm trying to sleep. I can't do this anymore. Please, in the name of all that's holy, move out." "You mean tomorrow?" "..." "Mom...I love you." I love him, too. It's now almost noon, and he's just awakened. He comes in my bedroom where I sit writing. "It's gonna take me a few more trips to get my stuff over to the apartment. So, can I spend one more night here?" I remember back to the day when he was six and told me the wonderful plan he had for his life. "I'm going to get married, Mom. But don't worry. When I find a girl, I'll bring her home to live with you." Can he spend one more night here? This boy, the youngest of the three best gifts God's ever given us, hears the music winding down, but somehow knows the dance isn't quite finished yet. "One more night," I hear myself say. "But then, Kevin, I'm going to need a little sleep." He smiles and kisses me. "Thanks, Mom." And he really means it. "For now," I say, "I must write..." "Let me guess the title." His eyes twinkle like they've done every day his whole life. "My Baby's Leaving." God, I'll miss this man. Posted by Katy on 06/15/05 at 11:35 AM Fallible Comments... Sweet story... ----- Posted by Bridget on 06/15/05 at 07:07 PM Aww!!! Official empty nester! Well, don't worry, I'll be home for a couple days this wknd if you're feeling like you're getting too much sleep. Posted by Carrie on 06/16/05 at 12:14 AM Oh, and you did offer up your casa if I have surgery next month....hee, hee. Be careful of what you wish for... :) Posted by Bridget on 06/16/05 at 01:25 AM gol-LY, katy, you sure leave a mom nodding her head in knowing, then laughing, then pre, pre-lamenting the inevitable empty nest, approximately (probably) sixteen or so years from now. if the last decade was any prediction of things to come, that time will fly. thanks for another peek into your honest to goodness mama heart :) Posted by lisa on 06/16/05 at 04:04 AM To say I can relate is a wild understatement. I cannot tell you how many nights like this my husband and I have had lately. Like you, I sit up and wait, and pray, and then call and ask. My sleeplessness has only lasted 19 years, but in a couple of weeks my son will leave and enter a demanding technical school from which he will in two years time (God willing) emerge with a good job in hand that will most likely not be in our small town. What I want to know is, will I continue to watch for his headlights when he is 1800 miles away? Posted by Jeanne on 06/16/05 at 05:58 AM Katy, you so captured the ambivalent bittersweetness of being a mom of kids who are growing up and leaving the nest. My own baby is 18, and although she will probably stick around here for community college, I know the day is coming... When she graduated at the end of May, my older son and his wife came up from Texas, and my younger son is home from college. When I hopped into bed I sighed, "All my chicks under one roof!" That doesn't happen very often these days. Posted by Cindy Swanson on 06/16/05 at 02:27 PM Thanks, you guys. The man Kevin just left, and I'm bawling my head off... Posted by Katy on 06/16/05 at 07:57 PM I gotta tell you that the other night my son called to tell me he hurt himself at work and he wanted to tell me about it. (He's in construction.) He has a perfectly good wife but it was like he had a boo-boo and he wanted his mommy to kiss it. I know I did a good job of raising them and the time comes when they're supposed to want to leave. I'm supposed to want them to leave because they need their independence. But it's difficult at first. You'll be okay and so will he. Be sure to always be available to kiss his boo-boos. Posted by Paula on 06/21/05 at 09:13 PM Page 1 of 1 pages Commenting is not available in this weblog entry. Next entry: Godspeed Previous entry: Thanks For The Meme-Story... << Back to main


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My Baby’s Leaving

Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri