Thursday, October 14, 2010

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Eight Months

Eight Months
Note: From this month on, I'll be writing these posts as if I am writing them to Cati. 

In what feels like a fraction of a second you have turned 8 months old. Although, in the grand scheme of things it has only been 8 months, it feels like you have been a part of and with me my entire life. I have been preparing myself for you all along and somewhere along the line I started to feel comfortable in my ability to be your mother. I'm still scared and constantly wonder whether I'm doing right by you, but getting to 8 months and seeing how much you have grown and changed in such a short time is the answer to all my doubts and questions. You are 8 months old little stranger.
You are becoming more and more independent. I love to watch you play. I love to watch roll around with your lovey. I mourn the loss of your army crawling, but I love to watch you crawl. You look so tiny when you crawl which makes me wonder if the size of the world around you even registers in your mind. I love how content you are to play on your own up until you are ready to eat and/or tired, then you come to me and try to climb your way onto my lap.
I love your innocence most of all. The way you smile at everyone without judgment. The way you laugh wholeheartedly. The way you view the world as a giant playpen free of dangers and people who want to hurt you.
Each month I get to know you better. You're like a puzzle and I'm trying to piece together your personality. You love to laugh. You hate Perla's piercing barks. You love your veggies. You hate your fruits. You love to crawl. You hate to sit still.
This month you blessed me with sleeping through the night. You showed me how strong you have gotten by going from pulling yourself up to your knees to pulling yourself to standing on anything and everything, including Perla.
You've allowed me to stuff you with 3 Tbsp of cereal plus 3 oz of breast milk in the mornings and 4-5 Tbsp of veggies for lunch. You've expanded your foods to include turkey, cauliflower, purple potatoes, green beans, and zucchini. You've filled me with giggles when you chew your food and you've filled me with frustration when you blow and spit out your food.
I love the schedule we were on for the second half of the month. You'd be in bed by 7:30pm and awake by 7:30am. In between that you have cereal at 8:00am, a bottle at 9:30am, a nap, lunch at 12:00pm, a bottle at 3:00pm, a nap, then bath, bottle, and bed. You still don't have teeth so I don't expect this cozy schedule to last.
On the mom front, this past month saw me really stepping out of my comfort zone with trips out of town. It was hard enough to pack for you without worrying that I would forget my pumping gear. We survived. Of course, I knew you would; I just didn't think I would. I haven't changed anything about my pumping routine, but the past month has been spent with me mentally preparing myself for the end of my pumping days. I look at my freezer stash and know there's enough in there to get you to a year and yet I'm afraid to stop pumping. For as much as I want the freedom to travel without the pump, the freedom to go out without worrying about needing to be home to pump, and the freedom to reclaim my body, I am sad to see the functionality of breasts go away. I'm sad to think that I will no longer be providing for you. It's irrational and the physical pros outweigh all the emotional cons, but it's all so bittersweet. I made it to 8 months pumping and you've had nothing but breast milk. I should be proud to being so close to my goal. I should be, but my joy is tinged with guilt and remorse.
One of the things I like about you getting older is how comfortable I feel with you. I know you better. You cry less and interact more. Most days it's just me and you. Most days you don't see your dad. I thought I had it tough in the beginning (shudder at the thought of those first 3 months) because your dad was so busy. But now he is a million times busier. And yet, it's not as bad and I don't feel as overwhelmed.
Motherhood is a journey. Reaching 8 months has been just like passing one of those mile markers on the road. You can see that you are approaching it, you can see when you pass it, and you like to count them as zoom past your window. It's a gauge for how far you have come and proof that you are getting on in your travels. Sometimes they pass by so fast you forget what you saw between them and sometimes what you see between them blows your mind and you forever remember that spot. I've been your mother for 8 whole months. I fall in love with you every single day. Thank you for being mine. 


vickdn said...

beautifully written :) this will be a great gift to share with her one day!

breedwoman said...

Oh my goodness. she's getting so big. What a great gift for her to read one day.