tomorrow he will be four months old. four months and i am just now finding our routine. finding time (and honestly, motivation) to write. i want to document this extraordinary, ordinary life that we are now embarking on. you know the one, parenthood. i have lots of ideas for mama related posts, our birth story, cloth diapering, sleep patterns (or the lack thereof), not fitting into real pants, etc. i want to keep this space my own, for my musings as not only a mother, but as just me. this is my little world and i want to keep it sacred.
we have set up a private blog for everything garrett. one day i will proudly make it into a book and give to him. he will see our words, our thoughts and stories at each milestone and every moment in between. i knew this would be a more simple way to document than a scrapbook. a scrapbooker, i am not.
we had his “newborn” photos taken at three months. this is telling of our first three months. we had feeding issues that took up the first month of his existence. then the second i got hit with a viral infection, strep throat and pneumonia all at once. then he was three months old and the husband and i realized we were finding our way. slowly, beautifully, and sometimes painfully so.
having our son has forever changed who we are. in many ways i can’t yet comprehend. it has been everything i have ever wanted along with nothing at all what i thought it would be . to say it is an adjustment is not doing it justice. one of the hardest challenges and yet, perhaps, one of the greatest blessings of being a mother is the basic fact of being needed. i have these two little hands and body hanging from me at all hours of every day.
the endless diaper changing, frequent nursing, spit up, tears. this neediness, this constancy of having to be everything for this little person can certainly take its toll. those early days it was so difficult to see beyond that moment. some days, it still is. but there will be a day where i won’t be needed. this realization has shown me that those frequent nursings, up multiple times each night exhaustion is a privilege. it is such an absolute privilege to be needed and this moment is fleeting.
his fingers will only be this little, his legs with the adorable chunk, his perfect big round belly for such a short droplet of time. i am intentionally soaking up every moment. the good and the bad. being honest that yes, there are really crappy moments. moments in this short four months that i feel i am failing. feel like i can actually do this. feel like no one understands. feel like i have surrounded myself with an amazing village of friends to support me. feel every cry. every smile.
my favorite book to read at night is “wherever you are.” here is the text:
i wanted you more
than you ever will know
so i sent love to follow
wherever you go.
it’s high as you wish it. it’s quick as an elf.
you’ll never outgrow it…it stretches itself!
so climb any mountain…
climb up to the sky!
my love will find you.
my love can fly!
make a big splash! go out on a limb!
my love will find you. my love can swim!
it never gets lost, never fades, never ends…
if you’re working…
or sitting with friends.
you can dance ’til you’re dizzy…
paint ’til you’re blue…
there’s no place, not one,
that my love can’t find you.
and if someday you’re lonely,
or someday you’re sad,
or you strike out at baseball,
or think you’ve been bad…
just lift up your face, feel the wind in your hair.
that’s me, my sweet baby, my love is right there.
in the green of the grass…in the smell of the sea…
in the clouds floating by…at the top of a tree…
in the sound crickets make at the end of the day…
“You are loved. You are loved. You are loved,” they all say.
my love is so high, and so wide and
so deep, it’s always right there, even
when you’re asleep.
so hold your head high
and don’t be afraid
to march to the front
of your own parade.
if you’re still my small babe
or you’re all the way grown,
my promise to you
is you’re never alone.
you are my angel, my darling,
my star…and my love will find you,
wherever you are.
you are loved.
~ Nancy Tillman
my baby boy, you are loved. you are loved. you are loved.