Tuesday, May 12, 2009

9 months

Oh, Love.

Nine months! I'm late again, but not out of lack of time (there is always that), but because this milestone has been a little hard for me.

Oh, sure. This month has been a doozy. This was the month of sickness, my dear child, and you swam through it like the little trooper you are. It seemed just when you were getting over the first illness, bam! another was on its heels. You had some sort of stomach bug, where your Daddy and I discovered it's true: you really aren't disgusted by your own child's spew. We'd hear you catch your breath and just hold you closer. Telling you it was okay, not to worry about getting sick on our shoulder, to just know we were here. That we were going to make sure you were okay. And then you caught some sort of upper respiratory infection, and hearing you struggle to breath is possibly the most terrifying sound I have ever heard. But you made it. We made it. Through sleepless nights and exhausted days, we got through. And, ironically enough, I often thought you were handling it much better than I. There were only a couple hours in there, all the minutes and days added up, where you were truly unhappy.You giggles and smiled and cuddled your way straight thru those storms, true to form. I don't know how you do it, kid.I do know you sure are teaching me how to handle stress and hard times.I am definitely becoming a better person, and hopefully a better mom, because of it.

But no, it wasn't the sickness that made this month hard. My reasons are infinitely selfish.This month marks the span of time the world has had you as long as I did. It probably seems silly, to mark this milestone with a bit of wistfulness, but here I am. Looking at you, in all your sill-i-fied glory, and surrendering that there is no doubt that you belong to, and in this world, much more than you belong (or even did) to or in me. Your smile radiates as we walk down the street, the city itself seems to brighten before you. Having you in my arms on our strolls through the neighborhood is like being a handler for a celebrity. People constantly stopping to point and exclaim how beautiful you are, or stop to talk to you - their voices raising three decibels and consonants suddenly unbearably soft. You move through this world in a grace I can't believe, and am often in awe of.

You are joy. You don't just have it, you don't just share it - you embody it.

But don't get me wrong, I am your mama. And that tie - that invisible cord - that runs from me to you. It's not going anywhere. This world needs you, that much I can see. Every day it becomes more apparent.But you need me.We need each other, and that shall come first for a while.If I have learned anything this month it is that I will do anything to procure your happiness and health.Nothing can, or will, keep me from that.No sleepless night, no cold or flu.

My love is like your joy, it seems to only multiply.

And, speaking of multiplying, you have grown like a weed this month! Your little buddha belly is almost gone, though you still have your little screw on hands and feet. And the cheeks, not to worry, the cheeks are still in full force. I can speak from experience and say those aren't going any where anytime soon.

The loss of that belly is in large part to your INABILITY TO BE STILL. You have discovered walking (albeit via parental finger holding) and there is no stopping you. I'm surprised we haven't run a rut through the middle of our apartment. You can pull yourself up to hold onto the couch, and have spent many an hour happily playing with your toys, standing against the footstool.

Crawling, you ask? Is there crawling to go along with this never-ending movement? Almost. You used to sort of totally ignore that perhaps there was a way to get from place to place near the floor, but have recently discovered it might behoove you to try. You haven't actually "crawled" yet, but you think of it. Ponder it. Reach up for fingers....

But I have no doubt that soon we'll be chasing you all over the place, regardless of what mode of transport you land on first. There is little you adore more than new people and places.

Oh, my darling daring girl. The time flies too fast. But one thing is constant...

You did not just merely grow beneath my heart, you are my heart.

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