So for the last two months or so, I’ve barely gotten out of my pajamas. New motherhood can do that to a woman, I’ve discovered. It can also make you strangely okay to go out in public unshowered, with crazy hair and maternity pants (even though you’re not pregnant anymore) because you are out of groceries.
Well, I’m planning on getting dressed today, but no promises. While we’re still a far cry from feeling “normal” again, we’re at least finding our rhythm. This little girl and I are best buds. Whenever we go places together, I feel a sort of deep comradery between the two of us. We’re in this together. I’m hers and she’s mine and ain’t nobody ever gonna change that. I fiercely love her to the point of explosion and there is nothing, not one thing, that I wouldn’t do for her.
When you become a mom, the needs of a little bitty life take the priority—and you find that at 3:30am when she needs to eat, you slap yourself awake enough to feed her and tell your former nights of uninterrupted sleep, “Hope to see you soon!”; you find that instead of putting on makeup in the mornings, you’re holding a baby on your shoulder while spit up cascades down your back; you find yourself drinking kale juice, and even though kale juice tastes like grass, you want to give your baby the best.
So yes, as a new mom adjusting to this hugely new normal, my life has felt totally crazy at moments. We have our great moments, too. Like when Jon and I ventured out with baby girl in tow to have our first date since her birth. She slept on the way to the restaurant and through most of the meal, and we were both thinking, “We got this!”
And then of course she woke up, and we hurriedly scarfed down the rest of our food with crying baby on the shoulder and then went swiftly to the car where she had her hugest diaper blow out yet.
It was a date to remember.
Our lives have totally changed. We’ve had moments when we kind of feel like we’re dying, but we wouldn’t have it any other way. Because this death has an unbelievably sweet exchange. And this baby won’t always be a baby. Just ten weeks have gone by since her birth, and I’ve already packed away some of her tiny clothes that she so quickly outgrew.
So before this season races past us, we want to soak up every ounce of the gift that it is.
Sweet baby girl,
Holding you is my favorite thing. Whenever you want to be held, you can always count on mama’s arms.
And whenever you’re content just hanging out on your own, this mama is still gonna come scoop you up sometimes and hold you really close and kiss your tiny cheeks. Because you won’t always be this small… so I’m gonna hold you as much as I can, while I still can.
Taking care of you is a deep and abounding joy. Whenever you’re hungry, I will feed you. If it’s 2am and mama is tired, I will still fill that little tummy of yours. And afterwards, I will cuddle you close and look at your tiny face in the dark, and whisper how much I love you.
Playing with you is a wonder. I will pretend to be a helicopter, talk in the weirdest of voices, sing the silliest of songs, sit on the floor and pretend that rattling bunnies are the most amazing toys ever invented—if it will cause you to smile. Because your smile is truly one of the most beautiful things I have ever, ever seen.
Spending time with you each day is time wisely, sweetly spent. I might not make it to the shower, might not get makeup or hair done, might smell like baby spit up and have a puddle of drool on my sleeve—but taking in these moments with you is more important to me than combed hair and mascara.
Today, and every day I can, I’m going to snuggle you close, cradle you in my arms when you cry, kiss any tears that might come, tickle your tiny feet, stare at your precious face as you sleep—because I know that in a minute you’re going to be asking your dad for the car keys and spending time out with your friends, instead of in your mama’s arms.
So while you’re still this small, I’m going to hold you as much as I can, sweet baby girl. Because with all my heart I believe that holding you lots and lots isn’t spoiling you. No, I’m the one who gets spoiled–because you, precious one, are one of life’s richest treasures.
(*All photos compliments of the amazing Cherish Andrea)