Today I feel so emotional, which is not a stretch anymore. It's hardly unusual. I think I'm touched every day by the fact that I've been blessed with another baby. I think I'm feeling overwhelmed by the fact that Lucia will only be my only child for a few more months. I'm so busy now, I have such a hard time documenting everything she does. I'm so afraid, in these spurts of learning, of exploding with words, language, that I'll miss something. Some days I'm caught off guard, because things sneak up on me so quickly. Somehow she already knows her abc's, can count to 10, knows shapes, animals and sounds, is putting more and more words together, making connections and stringing sentences. Who is this big girl? It's hard to believe that she's the same one I worried about so constantly. She's ahead of some kids her age. I've always known how smart and how tough she is, persistent, brave, curious. When she first opened her eyes through dazes of anti-seizure medication, I saw in them alertness, fascination, determination. She's done nothing but amaze us all as she's grown, and while I was definitely worried a lot of the time, I had a feeling, deep down in my gut that she'd be ok. Chris and I would always ask each other if she would be ok, and we would reassure each other that she would be. Neither of us ever gave up, nor did we truly think that she wouldn't come out on top. It's been a scary, uncertain road, but we both always saw that spark and had that sense of peace that she would be okay. And here she is at almost 2.5 years old. She's as much aware as any 2 year old would be when I tell her I have a baby in my tummy. It's a silly, strange concept. I'm sure she can't wrap her head around it. I can't either.
I wonder if my pregnancy with her was slower. This is flying by... I feel movement now, and I look pregnant, but it's all snuck up on me. With this swift passing of time, comes the realization that my baby girl is growing up, and she will be an only for a short period more. This is a good thing, a great thing, but it's moving into uncertainty after having finally reached a predictable, routine life. I'm scared. I feel guilt over not feeling as connected to this pregnancy, probably because I'm afraid of being a mom of two and not being enough, or finding that balance. I feel terrible over the worry that I won't love enough. I know I hear from many moms that your heart grows, that your love multiplies, but it's a worry nonetheless. I hear it's pretty common. I'm sure we'll settle into it okay, and I know at least I have more time now. I'm not stretched as thin.
Lately I go and sit in Lucia's room when she's asleep and watch her and feel overwhelmed by love and pride of her and how far she's come. I like to watch her still and curled up in her bed, still looking like a baby, tiny and innocent. Still and quiet, two things she never is when she's awake. I wish I could climb into bed with her, enjoy a quiet moment of snuggling with just her. I want to make for all of the time I wasn't around her and I want to savor every last minute of her being my only. She likes to climb onto my lap every night and curl up tight against me, but she's wiggly and silly, doesn't hold still for more than a few minutes here or there. I hardly rock her to sleep. It's just our time. I hold her head against me and remember my breech baby with her head poking me, shoved up in my ribs. It wasn't that long ago that she was in my belly. And for all my fears then, my worries, and all of the joys and tears, I've become a dedicated mom. I love being a mom, and I would not trade it for anything. Remembering our snuggle time, when I'm apart from Lucia, reminds me that all of my fears and worries are normal and we'll all be okay. She always gives me courage, and my love for her reminds me of the depths of my heart's capacity. I can think of her and realize that we'll all be okay and focus on the blessing of it all.
No comments:
Post a Comment