There is
a time in my life I can recall that doesn’t involve diapers or breast milk
or tiny socks that hide in every piece of laundry I fold. There is a time when
I used to sleep whenever I wanted and spent 15 minutes per eye perfecting liner
and never ever have to share bites of food. I didn’t
have stains and flyaway hair and unpainted toenails sometimes. Now I am a
mother and I’ll never understand how anyone can
use the word “just”
in relation to that role. Mommy is the most significant and challenging title I’ll
ever hold. I am so proud every day, so humbled and so full of complete and
utter wonderment for the life that has so delicately been placed in my
not-always-so-capable hands. As we approach the year mark, I’m
in disbelief how time has literally flown in the blink of an eye, a wisp of
hair, a tooth, a few tottering steps and
so much laughter. You are my most
precious and incredible boy, my son and my world.
I find myself replaying the time before you
arrived over and over and reliving the moments of eagerness and trepidation. Sometimes
I would sit alone on the floor, surrounded by your clothes--completely distracted
from the project at hand. I was probably deep in the throes of organizing and
reorganizing (and reorganizing) your bibs, your blankets, your funny little
shoes and counting diapers to make sure we had enough. I would be overthrown by
a kick or movement from you, and stop in that moment to rub my huge belly,
cradle it and tell you it was okay. Sometimes I cried—I
was more fearful than I ever let on. I didn’t
know if I would be a good mom. I didn’t know if you would like me. I
needed you out so I could count your fingers and your toes and see what color
your eyes were. I needed you curled up on my chest so that I could breathe you
in, and you could reassure me just as much as I would reassure you that
everything was going to be just fine. Those quiet moments, both in joy and
doubt, will always stand out in my memory. My pregnancy with you made me the most
vulnerable I have ever been yet I also felt beautiful and confident in my new
sense of self. There is never a doubt in my mind that you were (and still are)
my wee hero. I am so grateful you shook my world up.
And then
you were here. I’d never seen anything so awesome
ever. Never met someone for the first time that I loved so much. Everyone said
you were such a big, healthy baby, but I’d never seen anything so fragile
and small. You fit into my arms like you were molded for them. Those first few hours and days were wonderful
and so special. I don’t remember if I slept much, but I
do know I couldn’t stop looking at you. All my
worries washed away.
This year
has been full of challenges and victories. I’ve
changed close to 1.76 million diapers (or so it feels like), washed 9,000 loads
of clothes, gone through at least 25 pairs of yoga pants, eaten 150,000 cookies
and slept a grand total of 40 hours (give or take). I’ve
never regretted a single moment of nursing you this long, long wakeful nights or
skipping a shower to have more play time. I’ve
never regretted giving up evenings out for evenings in and unfinished movies
and dirty dishes. I’ll never regret sharing my bed
with you; I might have missed your sly smiles when you wake me up, or the fact
that you have to hold my hand (or daddy’s) some nights in order to fall
asleep. I will never forget the days when everything is frustrating for me,
because I am constantly adapting. My patience has grown tenfold, along with my
courage and willpower. I will never regret soaking up these brief instances
when you still need me the most. These
moments are fleeting, and having a child is surely why people believe in time
warps. How is it that you already have grown so much?
You are
funny, and smart, and sometimes you get the giggles so bad that you fall over.
You have the most amazing laugh and often times I hear you snort or twitter at
your own expense. You are sensitive and loving and it is never a bad time for snuggles
or a hug. You love kisses and give them
freely (although quite sloppily and open-mouthed) and biting toes (either your
own or someone else’s) is the newest craze for you.
You love your daddy more than anyone could possibly love someone and you cannot
get enough of him. You are walking, and incredibly proud of yourself with each
new thing you accomplish. You love cucumbers, blueberries, bananas, yogurt, crackers,
cheese, lettuce, toilet paper and pieces of the carpet. You have an obsession
with spoons. Yo Gabba Gabba, DJ Lance in particular, is most definitely your first
real “like”,
unless you count iPhone cords and the plunger in the bathroom. You’ve
learned “Dada”,
and although you went through a period of time where you called me “Bob”,
I know we’ll eventually get to “Mom”.
You have three teeth (your top ones and one on the bottom) and another on the
way. You are rarely in a bad mood even after zero sleep. You are more wonderful
that I ever could have dreamt about and even as I write this, you are changing
in unimaginable ways.
With your
big day rapidly approaching, I felt I must write this entry a little bit early.
I fear that the birthday chaos would sweep me away, and I would miss my
opportunity to sit quietly and reflect on the past year that has been nothing
short of breathtaking.
Although
I often yearn for the ability to stop you from growing so fast, I cannot wait
to watch you expand and learn and study the world around you. I will be by your
side until you do not need me there anymore but know; I will always be waiting
if you need me.
I love
you so much.
“I’ll
love you forever
I’ll
like you for always
As long as I’m
living, my baby you’ll be.”
-Robert Munsch, Love You Forever
