Month One: AKA sobbing while picturing you going off to college even as you can’t conrtol your neck

Parenting

Baby O is one month old. My son, my last born child, the tiny 5 pound little man, is one month old. And I can already picture him walking out of the house in 18 years, loading his car, heading off to college and watching with both pride and tears of remembering the time he was one month old.

We’ve come a long way, Baby O, from people joking about the beach ball under my shirt to those gawking at the beautiful boy I hold.  For whatever reason, yours or my body’s, you blessed us almost a month early because you knew we couldn’t wait to love on you. You grew strong quickly in the NICU and dozens upon dozens of people prayed for you and cheered you on. They cheered us all on as we sat by your side every day stroking your arm and whispering words of love and encouragement in your very tiny ears. The first time I held you, I cried. The second time I held you, I cried. The third time I held you I fell asleep thanking the world for bringing in such a lovely little man and trusting me with this very tiny life, knowing we would grow together. And we have.

We brought you home and you blossomed. You’ve gained nearly two ounces a day each day you’ve been here. You’re a strong little guy now and you pick up your head as you lay on my chest to stare in to my eyes. You’re curious about the world around you and you grunt and talk to everyone. Your sister has a run for her money in the talking department. You get that from me.

You’re working on learning the difference between day and night. I don’t mind that I get hours to hold you while you snore lightly. I’m never sorry to hear your noises as you wake up to feed. instead, I think briefly how insanely tired I am, how I’d love to keep sleeping, but then you remind me there are bigger things in the world and I am needed and loved. It makes it ok because I know it’s not going to last that long and one day you’ll grumble as I lean in to kiss your cheek and I’ll remember the hours we sat and rocked in the middle of the night. I’ll be proud of how grown up you are, but I will miss my tiny man.

I can’t promise that I’ll be great at doing these monthly updates. But I don’t want to forget your newborn-hood. I don’t want to forget how amazing it is when you gaze at me, when you snuggle between my breasts and sleep the most soundly you have all day. I don’t want to forget the smell of your head or the suck-suck-suck rhythm of your soothie. I know this time goes fast, so insanely fast, that even when the nights feel long or the days feel longer, one day I’ll look back and wonder when you grew up.

For now, though, I’m thankful you’re one month old. We’re enjoying you, little man. And we love you so.

581753732_bf98e5bfdf_m.jpg