Showing posts with label time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time. Show all posts

Sunday, May 12, 2013

Mother's Day

I woke up at 6:15 this morning to the sound of the monitor. It wasn't a full-fledged cry, and it wasn't one of the whimpers that mean that she's not fully awake yet; it was somewhere in between. It gave me enough time to run to the bathroom and get her bottle warmed before I got her.

When I got in the room, she was standing up in her crib, supported by one hand on the toy piano we have suspended from the footboard. She was, as always, happy to see me. And despite my lack of sleep -- she had awoken, briefly, at midnight, and her dad's alarm went off at 3 am -- I was beyond happy to see her.

Diaper, bottle, playtime on the floor, breakfast, another diaper, more playtime, another bottle, snuggles, and a nap: a morning just like every other weekend morning.

This was my mother's day; my first one as a mom. It was also the first one in a very long time that hasn't been overwhelmingly tinged with sadness and loss. I still miss my mother terribly, but I have so much more now than I ever did before. I am so very lucky.

Practicing her pouty face.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Three Months

The first three months went by in a whirlwind.

One minute it was my due date, and it seemed like I had been pregnant forever, not just 40 weeks.  There I was, planning my induction for the next week, and heading into the office because I would go stir-crazy at home, waiting ... and seemingly out of nowhere, my water broke, and I was headed to the hospital to have the baby.  Then, the long, long, LONG unproductive labor, followed by the c-section, and then -- the best part -- getting to meet our new little person for the very first time.

One day.

Since then, it seems like time has sped up.

One Month.

Every millisecond seems to go by more quickly than the previous one.

Two Months.

My once-teeny-tiny little newborn is now a sweet, wonderful, three month old girl.  She holds her head up by herself; she plays with toys; she giggles, squeals and coos in an attempt to communicate. Sometimes I am scared to blink, for fear that I will miss the next great achievement.

Three Months.