Missing Baby Saga

No matter what I say to her she will not believe that there is no baby- not here, not today. While it is true that once upon a time Susan really did have babies, and once she held them in her arms and they took naps on her bed, today is not that day.

Seriously Susan, you are seventy-three now; you do not have a newborn bay. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Even if you were forty-seven (as you have been proclaiming all day) it’s unlikely that you would be cuddling a baby girl in your arms, unless she were a grandchild.

One side of me feels sorry for her. She is so distraught over this missing child – the one she has spent the entire afternoon looking for. No doubt she totally believes that the baby was napping in her room when she disappeared. No matter how many ways I have attempted to clue her into reality today, she just isn’t buying it. I won’t be surprised if the sheriff knocks on my front door any minute ready to issue an Amber Alert.

The other side of me is cynical and tired. I mean, if she wants to be delusional than fine, but could I stay out of this one? In my attempt to spare her feelings, I have spent most of my day avoiding participating in the big “search”. My day’s allotted energy is running short. Her determination that her baby is missing is making her almost desperate to get someone to believe her- as it should- if it were real. But it is not real. Only this dilemma is real. Is anyone out there?

Katrina spent her entire evening avoiding looking for the missing child. She has things she needs to do this evening and the search
for the baby that wasn’t -never ends. Can’t find a baby that isn’t there, so Susan won’t let it end. At one point I heard Katrina in the hall telling Grandma, “Look in the mirror Grandma, you are too old to have a baby.” That produces the natural thought about what Susan does see when she looks in the mirror: Forty? Seventy-three? I admit she looks pretty good for her age, but her body is too tired to birth a child and the sagging breasts would not likely allow a baby to thrive. Her brain must control her eyes because she laughed at Katrina's suggestion as though it were a ridiculous one. Silly Katrina.

I seriously hope that when Susan awakes in the morning she will be over this baby thing, otherwise I might spend tomorrow figuring out how to cancel an Amber Alert. No, not that. Could we do something else tomorrow Susan?


(Note: Needless to say, we never found a real baby, but my granddaughter’s doll seemed to give Susan some joy. Although she knew it was a doll, she still looked at it and treated it like a real baby. Works for me.)