I almost titled this post something along the lines of "The Pains of Letting Him Grow"....but I realized that there was no "letting" involved - I simply do not have any say in the matter of my son getting older. I cannot stop time, I cannot bottle his infancy, and I will not always be the center of his universe, try as I might. So instead I deal with it - him growing, and all. But sometimes it hurts.
Like that night in Idaho when my mom wanted to sleep with Axton. She knew we were leaving soon and she wanted to get as much snuggles in as she could. Fine, I said. I don't mind, I said. Maybe I will actually get some sleep tonight, I said..
So she laid with him on mattress, and I turned and walked away. The first few steps were easy, and I had high hopes for the night. But that hallway to my bedroom was a mile long and soon the skip in my step was slowing. When I reached my doorway, the darkness and silence that hit me was overwhelming. My room was empty. There would be no soft presence in the bassinet next to my bed, there would be no sleepy sounds of a tiny body to lull me to sleep. No one and nothing waited for me in that room.
And then I cried.
I was not ready for that. I was not ready to be done with him sleeping right next to me, even if for just one night. Even if it meant I would get a longer stretch of sleep than 5 hours for the first time in 3 months. I knew that that time would come soon enough, and I was going to enjoy him next to me for as long as I could. So I turned around and walked back down that mile-long hallway, tapped on my mom's shoulder, and told her to either scoot over or to pick up Axton and come with me to my room.
I never realize how much he means to me until his presence his questioned, and then it's like my body momentarily experiences death - a ripping apart of the heart and a cessation of breathing.
Or how about our first night in Minnesota? They had a crib - but those are for big boys! - not a bassinet. And that crib was not right next to my blow up mattress. No, it was totally on the other side of the room. Well, this won't work too well. Too far, I said. I've got to get up and feed him! And then Axton started fussing a bit in his crib and I walked over and picked him up and as I did I said these words,
"Oh, Axton, you want to sleep with Mommy, don't you?"
As the words hit my ears I knew.
I knew it had nothing to do with Axton wanting to sleep with me, and everything to do with me wanting to sleep with Axton. As I realized this, I shut my eyes, swallowed the lump in my throat, kissed his already-asleep little eyes, laid him back down in his crib, and walked weakly to my own, cold bed.
And now that we are home and he is back in his bassinet right next to me, I am still just a little sad because tonight, for the first night, he is sleeping unswaddled. He's slowly been resisting it more and more lately, and I've been resisting his resisting. A silly thing, really. But it means he is no longer a newborn, needing to be cozy and wrapped and secured. He is a baby and he wants to stretch and suck his fingers and have a blankey simply laid across him. And just that small thing....well, it sends my throat into a frenzy and I have to swallow that lump again.
Also, the fact that his legs are so long that when he nurses they are like spaghetti noodles dangling over my belly, onto the bed, and crossing at the feet --- when just a short time ago they used to curl so tightly against me, his toes barely past my belly button.
He is conscious of liking something and knowing how to get it - that fact that that process is even working in his brain already astonishes me. He makes his Lifting Weights Face when he wants to sit up and look around, when he never even used to know what sitting up meant. He cries when I take him out of his swing too soon because he wasn't done watching the mobile spinning in circles, when not long ago he couldn't even see them.
.................................................................
My husband asked me tonight if I liked being a mom. It hardly seemed a question to me - my immediate, instant answer: Yes. I love it.
Ask me if it's easy, and I will tell you No.
Ask me if I miss my sleep, my personal time, my patience, my old body, and I will say, Heck yes I do.
Ask me if, sometimes, do I just need a break? And I will say Yes, wanna watch my kid for an hour?
But when you ask me if I like being a mom, my answer will always be, forever more, Yes, yes, yes. It is my calling, it is my dream, it is my life, it is my heart and soul. It is the most painful and most amazing journey I could have ever chosen to embark on.
And tonight I cling to the fact that he still sleepily smiles as he is falling asleep, my breast still at his lip and his hand clutching a fistful of my shirt.
Good night, my love. My baby forever.
I've Moved!!!
9 years ago
I love every single sentence of this post.
ReplyDeleteI love the nursing/sleeping/smiling/holding onto the shirt too! Emery does it and I always just stare and try to take in every second! I totally understand your feelings! :)
ReplyDeleteSleepy snuggles is the most precious time. Part of me wishes I could keep her an infant forever. The other parts of me cannot wait to watch her Grow and learn!
ReplyDeleteoh this post, like most of yours, made me cry! :) i don't remember where i read it, but i read somewhere that motherhood is a series of letting go. (maybe i read it on your blog?) also, love the "weight lifting face" :) love you.
ReplyDeletei love this. every word. i can totally relate. my baby is almost 2 months and i already feel like he's growing up too fast! thank you for sharing :)
ReplyDelete-megan