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Little Bits

 

Newborn baby, mother, and dog

I remember…

…the morning light filtering through the tree outside our bedroom window and Mike coming in with a smile on his face and a hot cup of coffee for me. My heart so full it might burst, our tiny, perfect child tucked into my arm, the two of us in a comfortable nest of pillows, her little hands massaging for more milk, suckling, suckling, suckling. I remember being so amazed that I was able to breastfeed, that I was making milk and that it was making her bigger every day. I have a thousand fuzzy cell phone photos of her little head on my breast, nursing, then milk-drunk and fast asleep…

…feeling afraid each evening as the sun went down, scared because the day was ending and no, I wasn’t ready for that, please don’t let the day end yet. Tomorrow she’ll be bigger and we’ll be one day closer to real life, going back to work, commitments and responsibilities. I wanted this time, this perfect peaceful time of rest and bonding to last forever…

…being afraid to turn off the lights and say goodnight because what if, when I woke up in the morning, she was gone? I worried about SIDS until my chest closed and I couldn’t breathe. I remember talking about my fears in our Newborn Parenting Support class, tears streaming down my face, what if what if what if? I read everything I could about it, knowing the information would either make my fears worse or ease them. It eased them. I did everything they say to do to protect her but even now I still worry…

…my father calling every day on his lunch hour, to check in, offer to bring me lunch, ask to hold the baby even just for a few minutes. Of course, Papa. I would say. Come! Hold your granddaughter… and then I could slip away and take a hot shower knowing Eva was in arms and listening to a beating heart that loved her…

Sweetly Sleeping Infant

…waking up in the middle of the night with her, so tired, so tired. Little cries. Is this really my life? This exhausted magic? Change a diaper, tip toe through the little dark apartment, her breath on my neck, little hands to her tiny mouth, small sucking sounds and chirps. My heart fluttering and my eyes bleary, the red light from the snake tank our only light. Shapes in the shadows, shhhhh, its okay, we’re okay, nothing can harm us, we’re safe…

…my mother bought us these incredible steaks and Mike fixed them with vegetables for a fantastic dinner, which we ate in bed against a pile of pillows, the baby on my knees, so small, so sweet. Awake, alert, watching us with her newborn eyes…

…my father, who’s never done a load of laundry in his entire seventy-five years of life, folding my sheets and pajamas and Mike’s underpants while I nursed a hungry baby…

Breastfeeding a newborn

…watching my beloved husband fall deeper and deeper in love with his daughter every day…

Father and Newborn Baby

 

Piecing it all Together, One Post at a Time

I did not intend to let so many months pass without a single post here. I thought that during my maternity leave I would write daily about my experience in new motherhood. I thought I would do so many things on my maternity leave. Twelve weeks of projects! Twelve weeks of accomplishments! Twelve weeks of doing All The Things. But I ended up doing just one thing during those twelve weeks: I loved my baby. I held her skin-to-skin for weeks. We cranked up the heater and neither of us wore clothes unless we absolutely had to. I pressed my cheek to hers and breathed in the scent of her newness. I studied her every feature, memorizing each eyelash and fingernail. I danced with her, sang to her, read to her, cried with her. I bounced her and rocked her and nursed her and every day fell deeper in love with her. The world fell away the moment she was born and nothing else mattered. I forgot about emails, phone calls, texts. I stopped reading blogs, watching television, checking Facebook. I didn’t do laundry or grocery shop or fix a meal for probably five months. (Thank God for Mike.) An old friend said motherhood had made me “lame” and I thought, you know what? I might be a totally lame friend, but I’m a fucking great mom. So, I’ll take it.

When Eva was seven months old I went back to the little hand-written journal I’ve been keeping since I was eleven weeks pregnant, to re-read all the entries since her birth. I hadn’t been blogging, but at least I’d been journaling all the wonderful moments I had wanted to capture forever. But there were only three entries. Just three in seven months. The realization was crushing.

That said, not for a second do I wish I’d spent a single moment doing anything besides loving my baby. I knew going into this that her infancy would speed past and I was determined to soak up every moment. And I really feel like I did that – I relished every day. But I do wish that I’d been able to write every day, even just a few lines, to fill in what are now blanks. So many moments have slipped like sand through my fingers. So I’m hoping to spend some time in the next few weeks using this space to write out the bits and pieces I do remember, in an effort to try and recapture as much of those early days as I can. Because more than this blog is for me, its for her now. I want so much for her to grow up knowing how treasured she is and has always been. And when I finally drop dead (hopefully a long time from now) at least she’ll have my words here to come back to.

In the mean time, here’s her birth announcement, which (of course) I intended to post last February…

newborn birth announcement