When you become pregnant… well, get married… actually, as soon as you look to be about the age when people normally have babies, you will be subject to the opinions of all those around you. Some, you will actually care about, like those from friends, relatives, doctors, etc, and others you would just love to tell them where to stick it. Of course, if you are anything like me, you will just clamp your mouth shut and nod. No use giving yourself an aneurism over who knows best.
One idea though just kept coming back. It came from friends, from relatives, coworkers, doctors, and random people that noticed I was pregnant and still, I just kept pushing it from my mind. I had more to worry about during pregnancy than what was to happen after the baby was born. Foremost on my mind was wondering if I could make a thirty minute car drive without peeing myself. Well that and when I could get my next snack.
They grow up so fast.
Well, those nine months sure seemed to last forever and then voila, I could see my feet again! I could also make it through an entire movie without having to pause it to go pee. Well, in theory I could; it’s not like I had the time or energy to attempt to do so with a newborn at home.
Just a few minutes ago I put my eleven week old girl to bed. We have a nightly bedtime routine where she gets a nice warm bath around eight, her last feeding of the night, and then a short story. Then she is whisked upstairs in her snuggie (my nickname for her swaddle me) and placed in her crib. For the last week or so she has been sleeping through the night so I am determined to stick wi this routine. I’ve been so excited by this new revelation as well as the additional sleep my husband and I have been blessed with that I had not really stopped to think of the what it all means.
She is growing up so fast.
As I fed her tonight, her sleepy eyes staring up at mine, one arm tucked behind me and the other resting on my leg, I felt it. I felt her growing up right before my eyes.
I remembered the first night at the hospital. I remembered the struggle in those first few weeks to get her to latch and the tears I shed each time the doctor told us she was losing weight. I remembered crying in my husband arms after struggling to nurse her at my breast. I remembered pumping for twenty minutes every two hours, even overnight, only to finally accept that my milk supply was diminishing. I remembered the shame I felt when the switch to formula was complete but also the subsequent joy of seeing her finally start to grow. I remembered her first smiles, her first pouts, her arched eyebrow at my silly faces and her silent laughter.
I remembered the day we ran out of newborn diapers and realizing the size ones fit. I remembered packing away the first sleeper she outgrew, and then the socks, and onesies and pants, until there were no more newborn clothes left in her drawer. I remembered the moment when I first saw her tears, her first booger and her first little lump of ear wax.
I remembered the first time she slept through the night and the utter terror I felt as I woke up realizing I had not heard a peep from her all night, scared to death to find her not breathing.
As I stared down into her deep blue eyes, my own began to water. In my mind, a flicker of my baby all grown up. And I cried. I pulled her bottle away from her mouth, pulled her to me and kissed the soft, sweet skin of her forehead, trying so hard to hold onto this moment forever.
She is my baby and she is growing up too fast.