If you've had a baby, you probably feel this way too.  The more time that passes after giving birth, the more you feel like you had very little to do with it. 

Let me explain.

For nine months, that little baby was part of you.  Your belly grew and became more and more round, you felt the little kicks and twitters inside, and you spent nearly every waking moment wondering what this little creation might look like and how she might interact with the world someday.  At that point she was yours...your body.  

And then the baby comes out looking very much like a newborn--a little curled up ball of arms and legs and looking very dependent.  Still, when you look at her, it seems as if you're seeing part of your own body.  She's still an extension of you.  Her breaths are the same as yours.  Then, things begin to change.

The cord is cut.  She remains a curled up ball for a few weeks while she becomes acclimated to her surroundings.  She nurses and you get to know one another in those moments.  She sleeps a lot.  All of a sudden she begins to stay awake longer, notice more happenings around her, and enjoy being alert.  You lock eyes and smile at each other and she learns to goo and gah.  She looks at you like you're the coolest, most beautiful, funniest person in the world.  It's the most helpless injection of unconditional love you've ever felt.  You don't know what you did to deserve this little bundle of joy, but you're glad you did it.  Whatever it was.  Oh yes, it was God's good graces.  You wonder more about God.

During her waking hours she begins to look away from you a lot, and attempt to discover more about her surroundings.  The lights.  The ceiling fan.  The TV.  Who is this Oprah Winfrey person?  Why does Mama like cooking shows so much?  She gains some independence.  She wonders.

And you notice that she's not part of your body anymore.  That feeling that she's in sync with your rhythm is gone.  She's beyond you now and you'll never get her back.  She has her own spirit, her own will, and her own sense of self-discovery.  You realize how long she's getting and how much she hangs off your legs while you nurse.  Did this happen overnight?  Was she really inside you at one point?  How in the world did this little miracle go from a couple of tiny cells to this growing, thriving person?  She has defied all the odds.  And it seems as though you had very little to do with it.  She is her own person now.

You wonder how long it will be before she asks to drive the car.  Or tells you about a boy in her class.  Or picks a college. 

Perhaps children gain a little more freedom each day of their lives.  In that case, I've just documented the moment where dependence begins to evolve into independence.  It happems about three weeks after the cord is cut.  I thought it would be a little further down the road...