I know, I know. People tell me they grow up so fast, but this is too much – Gem is already getting too big for some of her clothes. Some she didn’t even get to wear.
On Thursday, we had a well baby checkup. At 6 weeks old, she weighs 12 pounds, 4 ounces – up from 7 pounds, 9 ounces at birth. She has grown 3 inches in length and her head circumference has increased by 2 inches since birth.
I worry about how quickly time is passing. I’m afraid I’m going to miss something. I’ve gone whole days without taking a picture of her – and she changes so much each day. I’m a bit sleep deprived and my brain is often in a groggy haze – I worry I’ll miss a smile, or a giggle, or a coo. She is so close to rolling over, she can scootch herself several inches away from where I put her down, she has discovered the baby in the mirror, and when she smiles – my heart stops.
I once heard someone say that parenthood means deciding to let your heart run around outside of your body. I’m starting to get this picture of parenthood as one big, long, excruciating yet joyous exercise in letting go. This started for me even before her birth. When complications started piling up and I spent the 33rd week of my pregnancy in the hospital, I got a crash course in accepting the fact that I can’t control everything. On an intellectual level, I understand that I can’t control everything about my daughter’s upbringing – on an emotional level, I still want to try.
Over the past several years I’ve had several lessons in letting go – losing a job and my father’s death were big lessons. Later I mustered the courage to let go of the income that came from a dead end job so I could go back to college. Lessons learned, perhaps, to prepare me for the years ahead of holding her close, while at the same time, letting her grow.
It’s hard to believe that it has been a month since you were born. I’ve been waiting my whole life to do what I’ve been doing this past month, mothering you.
We had been hoping and trying to have a baby for almost five years when you were born, you are truly a miracle and a dream come true. We marveled at your tiny toes, your long, thick brown hair and your little button nose. Daddy’s eyes are a bluish grey and my eyes are denim blue, but your eyes are the exact color of fresh blueberries. You and I have the exact same worry line running straight up from our right eyebrows and the same widow’s peak hairlines. You have a point on one of your fairy ears that rounds out a little bit more every day. I wish I had taken a picture of it on the day you were born because soon it will be gone. Until then, each day I have to resist the urge to nibble on it – it is just so cute. I am going to miss this little ear point when you get older.
Your arrival has turned our world upside down, and we couldn’t be happier. I don’t sleep any more even though the conventional wisdom tells me that I should sleep when you sleep. But you only sleep during the day time, and I’m so enamored with you that I spend the time you are sleeping sitting here and watching you sleep. Or studying for school. Or writing in my blog. Or washing your clothes. Or cleaning the house. Or trying to remember to feed myself. Oh, never mind. None of those things are as important as the time I spend with you.
I have discovered that there is no time in which I have felt more content than when you sleep on my chest. All the pressures of the world melt away and I am able to relax in those quiet moments we have together.
I love your little squeaks and grunts, and the fact that you growl at my breasts while you’re eating. I cant wait till you start to coo and giggle, I can already imagine the sound of your laugh. You make sounds all the time, even in your sleep. You make faces in your sleep too, and that is when you smile the most. I wonder what you dream about. What thoughts are running through your little head. What is it that triggers that beautiful smile. Your entire face lights up, it must be more than just gas. Whatever it is, it must make you feel really good.
About the name Gem. You already have a bunch of nicknames with family and friends: I call you Squeak, Daddy calls you Angel, Uncle Timmy calls you Piglet, Aunt Dee calls you Veve. I wanted a different nickname for you that would be for the world to use. Why? Well there is the issue of protecting your identity, even though your real name has already been shared with the world. There is the fact that Mommies can be embarrassing when they tell people all the cute, silly, stupid things you do – and to have a Mommy Blogger who puts it in print and shares it with the world must be worse. Maybe an alias can be a bit of a boundary, a little something, even if only in name, to buffer the real you from the rest of the world. But whatever we do, lets pretend like it has nothing to do with the fact that Genevieve is too long a name to type all the time and Mommy’s lazy – Because, like it or not, you don’t get to use that excuse when it comes time to learn how to write your name. Get used to it. Mommy is mean like that.
CoffeeJitters is an affiliate to a number of sites and services. I do not endorse products I don't love. I may receive compensation if you purchase items from links on this website.
