Posted by: emjb | December 8, 2005

One Month, Almost

Dear Nathan;

I’m six days early, but what the heck. We’ve already had a year’s worth of drama since you’ve been born, anyway.

Well, it’s been a heckuva month for both of us, hasn’t it? Your stubborn refusal to be born on time (my mother in law’s opinion; your head is kind of oval-ish and may just never have been able to fit through the old pelvis bones properly, more than you just being huge. But honestly, we might never know). Your birth, more about which later. Your first days, and my nervous breakdown. Our fleeing to Texas on Thanksgiving, your hairy back, and my surprise hemorrhage and hospital stay. The beginning and end of breastfeeding for both of us.

But right now, peacefulness. You’re asleep on the bed with your left arm above your head, after yet another bottle. Stretched out long enough to see that you won’t fit into your Mamaw’s Moses basket by the time we get back to Texas again. You’re making your little sighs and snorts in your sleep that I’ve slowly gotten used to; you might wake up any second, or sleep for 2 more hours. We’re going home in a few days to see your daddy and try to get our lives all going along together, get our rhythms matched to yours, and hopefully it won’t be too hard to do. You’ve been away from him longer than you’ve been with him. We need to change that.

You’re getting a personality, I think. You know me, at least. Right now you’re quiet and observant for the most part, and serious; smiles come and go, but quickly. You don’t know how to laugh yet. Yesterday I saw a tear in your eye for the first time. You wave your arms and legs frantically, and it’s a struggle to keep you from bopping yourself in the face, and to keep your nails short enough that you don’t scratch yourself. You keep your hands balled up in fists unless you’re eating, then they open and close slowly, each hand with its own rhythm. You grumble and squeak to yourself when you haven’t quite woken up yet, reluctant to cry; even when you do cry, it’s a quick , irritated “Naaaah!” in one loud burst, and then you build up to a series of “aaahhh-Laaaah’s!” if you are really angry, which hasn’t happened often…yet.

You like being sung to, and you prefer lower pitches, at least for now. I’m having to struggle to remember the words to “Little Bunny Foo Foo” or any other children’s songs I once knew. Time to buy some CDs and DVDs and refresh my memory, obviously. It makes me happy that you seem to like music, because I know it will make your daddy happy. The same way that I’m happy you’ve inherited his pretty blue eyes and long eyelashes. That was one wish for you that I’ve been granted. You couldn’t do much better than to be as much like him as possible, although I know you will want to be your own person.

I’m trying hard not to put any expectations on you yet. You’re only three weeks old and change; it’s too soon to be able to tell much about what you’re really like. I’m trying not to assume anything where you’re concerned, because I don’t want to miss finding out who you are. I’m impatient for you to grow up and talk to me, but trying to remind myself that this time is precious too, and I’ll never have it again, so not to waste it. That’s what this part of the blog is about, actually; so much is happening so fast, and I don’t want to forget, especially the good parts, the parts to do with you.

Here’s to the next month, which will be busy and probably stressful, but better for both of us, I hope. Whatever it’s like, I’ll do my best to get it all down, and save it for the day you’re ready to read it.

Love, Mom


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