It’s Sunday November 19th at 7:30 pm. Yesterday was our annual Friendsgiving party. Today we had a lot to clean up and we also went to your cousin Charlie’s 5th birthday party. Your dad went to go play some poker with some guys at a friend’s house tonight and I’m nursing you and rocking you in the nursery, in the dark with white noise on Apple TV and your sound machine while you’re bundled in the sleep suit and I have your playlist playing softly from my iPhone. You calm when I softly sing “Baby Mine” along with Alison Krause, except I change some words to fit you. A very familiar part of our evening routine, but tonight doesn’t seem as routine as normal.
You squirm as I pause from typing on my phone on the lowest brightness to reflect on my feelings and you reach up and touch my face. You grunt. You unlatch and then latch again. I tear up.
The ordinary things you do, noises you make, and ways you move have become so familiar to me. I don’t even regularly think much about some of them anymore, but in this moment, they overwhelm me.
You’re five months old and in the past week or so you’ve mastered rolling from your back to stomach and then back again. You don’t hate being on your tummy as much now because it’s like you’ve discovered that you can reach for toys while propped up on your forearms and can roll both ways to keep things interesting. It’s a big step to making you more self-reliant. While I’m so thankful for your health and ability to reach these milestones, I’m concurrently excited to be seeing glimpses of the next season where you will be mobile and able to discover more independently and sad at feeling you start to slip even farther away from things in the newborn baby stage.
Things like the frequent nursing. The cuddling. Thumb sucking. The peaceful resting with your head on my chest while in my arms. The reaching to be picked up. The fussing for me to give you a toy you want or to change which toys you are playing with. The grunting of disapproval you make when you want to move or a change of scenery. The sweet squeals of delight when I do something that particularly pleases you.
How much longer will you grip my fingers and pull my hands and arms by them? How much longer will you get that excited look in your eyes as you realize I’m about to feed you? How much longer will you be exclusively breast fed? How much longer will you make the noises you make as you realize and exercise your vocal abilities? How much longer will my silly songs for all of our activities make you smile and laugh? How much longer will you pat me on my face or neck and chest while you are nursing?How much longer do we have until I’m no longer able to peek over your crib in the mornings to a cooing, smiling baby staring up at me who then laughs when I sing our “good morning” song because instead you’ll be pulling yourself up and holding on to the rail? How long do I have left until you no longer take comfort and nourishment at my breast or rest in my arms?
You’ll be 6 months old so soon, and while I usually spend these next days and weeks of this time of year making all kinds of goodies, making or buying gifts for people, and decorating everything in sight, this year I don’t want to do that. I am choosing to focus on you and to spend as much time on you as possible. Not because you’ll remember this Christmas at all, but because I ALWAYS will. My first Christmas with my precious daughter who is SO dependent on me. Who needs me.
After such a rough beginning to your life and our nursing bond that makes me feel like I was a little robbed of what should have been some of the most precious times with you, now that you’re feeling better and are so much happier, I want to take these few weeks to do less Christmas prep. One tree. Not two or three. And so on.
I’m going to spend this season holding you tighter, nursing you longer, soaking up these last weeks that you need me to carry you everywhere you go, and finally, taking in the peacefulness of the season that can be here among the hustle when you just focus on a baby. To focus on you, of course, but also the one who was born to bring peace in earth and the reason we celebrate this season.
May I never forget the blessing of each season with you, my darling.
Photo Credit: Sannetta Marsh