Seven months. Where did those seven months go?
My sweet, sweet boy. You grow and change so quickly that I am having a hard time keeping up. I wake each morning to new sights and sounds – hair that has filled in, arms and legs that are longer and reaching further, eyes that seem wider and brighter and a smile that now houses two perfect tiny teeth within.
I’m not sure when or how it happened, but my little baby has turned into a little boy. You have the ability to read expressions on our faces and mimic them which completely blows me away. You have such a cheeky, innocent and yet mischievous nature that it makes me both excited and terrified for our years to come. Your giggle is infectious, your hugs warm and welcoming, and your heart so full of love that I am smitten.
I spent many nights rocking you in your room, tears streaming down my face – trying to decide what the best thing to do for you was. We were struggling with nursing and reflux and so many different opinions and diagnoses that each day held such physical and emotional turmoil. But there I sat, and rocked, and held you in my arms and sang the same song to you – over and over. Because I felt every word and wanted you to know – always – that my pain was never because of you.
you are my sunshine,
my only sunshine.
you make me happy,
when skies are grey.
you’ll never know dear,
how much i love you.
please don’t take
my harper finn away.
I stopped singing that song to you a little while ago when we were trying to develop a strong sleep routine and nourish healthy sleep hygiene with you. I created what we now call the slumber song and have worked that into your nap and night time sleep routine in it’s place.
The other night, I stopped singing the slumber song and instead started singing You Are My Sunshine while I held and nursed you. You looked up at me, paused your nursing for a moment, and smiled – a wide, accepting and almost relieved grin. I continued to sing, realizing you were acknowledging the moment, the words and the melody and you returned to nursing – smiling and cuddling and almost cooing with delight to hear it again. You reached up and stroked my cheek and in your own precious way let me know that ‘you’ knew.
You remind me daily that you are so much more than you appear.
Seven months have passed in a moment – a haze of exhaustion and fear. A blur of a new mother’s apprehension and uncertainty. As much as I enjoy seeing you grow and learn and catch glimpses into the person you will soon become, I yearn for things to slow down. I am trying to remind myself to enjoy you here, now … in this current moment. Because once it’s gone it won’t be back again and you have so much to offer us already.
I love you, my precious little peanut. I will keep singing that song to you – keep telling you how much you mean to me despite any turmoil we endure. Because it is worth it – it will always be worth it.
Seven months behind us but with so many more to come.