The First Year

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