Dear R, You Are 11 Weeks

Dear R,

You are a snugly baby, a funny baby and a picky baby. You are eleven weeks old.

Three months ago, I wrote you a letter. It gushed over anticipation of meeting your sweet face and seeing your sweet smile. At the time, my heart was so full of love I thought it might burst out of my chest alongside you.

Little did I know that the love I felt then was just the honeymoon phase.

You were an easy newborn. You slept most the day -- and night to my surprise. I was a pile of emotional nerves the day I brought you home, barely comforted by the the strength I had endured days before in bringing you into this world. You proved all my insecurities meaningless. You fit right into the world, into our house and into our family.

You spent your time eating in my arms and sleeping on my chest. You burrowed your way into my heart with each snuggle, and found your security blanket in me.

Well, you know what? I found my security blanket in you too.

Your warm skin against mine. The beating of your heart. The way your breath slowed each time I wrapped my arms around you. I felt safety in holding you, providing for you and loving you. As though I spent my entire life looking for a purpose and then, there you were.

You have since grown.

In just two and half months, I've watched your eyes widen, your lips curl into many smiles and your hands reach for that toy you just love.

I've heard your little voice too. And oh how I love your little voice. I first heard it when you cried. No, not just the crying voice. One day-- mid-cry-- you looked up at me and said, "Ay ya ya ya ya." Sure you still cried, maybe even wailed, but at that moment I'd never heard a more beautiful sound. Now you talk to me throughout the day-- carry on conversations in your own beautiful little way. I hope you never stop.

And you're a curious little thing. If you're awake-- which these days is quite often-- you're scanning the room for a sight to see, a new lesson to learn, a new person to meet. Nothing excites you more than people. You could watch people for hours--ugh, if you didn't have to nap even now and again.

Oh, and don't get me started on napping. You used to be such a good napper! Then suddenly-- poof! All that spare time I had during the day was gone. You refuse to nap any where but in my arms. This is nice when your daddy is home. The three of us could snuggle up to a movie for hours. But the rest of the time, girl, you drive me crazy! And I did go crazy, a few times and probably will go crazy a few more, but suddenly-- poof! It will change again. So I'll just hang in there for now, you'll learn (or remember) how to nap soon enough. And I'll be left with an even bigger baby, wishing you would snuggle/nap with me just one more time.

Because each snuggle/nap may be the last one, each silly face you make while I sing, and each smile  we exchange while we play Patty Cake. You'll grow up, you'll move on and you'll be sooooo over snuggling with mom. So while I may be going crazy now, I must tell myself-- as you sleep on my lap and I type this with one hand-- to cherish this moment.

This much I know, I can't wait to watch you grow. To watch you learn to crawl, and walk, and talk! Those milestones can't come fast enough! But it's a double edged sword because I look at you now and remember you then. I already find myself missing how tiny you used to be.

And I'll feel that for the rest of my life.

So in these few short weeks, I've experienced a lifetime of memories with you. But everything you've experienced will be wiped clean with age. Don't worry, I'll share them all with you, whether you want to hear them or not.

But now you're stirring. Ready for some food, I bet. Don't worry my love, Mommy's here.

All my love,



Popular Posts