Saturday, October 23, 2010
Friday, October 15, 2010
More Pictures
Since I took a fair number of pictures for Ethan's one-month milestone, I'll post some more here that show off my little munchkin better:
Said pacifier was also useful for the outfit change that followed the photo session
And this is the face he makes when you take his pacifier away
He looks just like some pictures of me around that age in the last two pictures. I think it's mostly the hair.
Anyway, I promise to have a real update soon. I can't imagine what could possibly be keeping me too busy to blog...
Relaxing in the Boppy in the morning
He was NOT happy about being put down for one-month pictures. Most of the pictures necessitated a pacifier or else he was screaming. However, as soon as I picked him up, he was happy. This little boy loves his mommy!
Said pacifier was also useful for the outfit change that followed the photo session
And this is the face he makes when you take his pacifier away
He looks just like some pictures of me around that age in the last two pictures. I think it's mostly the hair.
Anyway, I promise to have a real update soon. I can't imagine what could possibly be keeping me too busy to blog...
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
One Month
Dear Ethan,
I cannot believe it's been a month. One month since I held you, screaming, on my chest for the first time. One month since you stared up at me with those big, wide eyes for the first time. One month since I first attempted breastfeeding, only to realize after a minute that you'd latched on beside my nipple instead of on it (oops). One month since I began to realize that our lives would never be the same again.
As I sit here with you asleep in the Moby on my chest, I am filled with such awe and wonder at the person you're becoming. How tiny you look (and are) still and yet how much you look like a little boy when you're decked out in your footie pajamas. How alert you are when you stare at the world around you. And how I'm learning every day to follow your cues to provide you with what you need. The sense of pride I feel when I calm your crying or get you to sleep. My relief at your sleeping through the night (for now), but also my sadness that for those 6+ straight hours, I cannot cuddle you and kiss your forehead. I am happiest when you're in my arms, even when you're screaming.
And as a mother, I'm not without worries. I worry that you're still not back to your birth weight. I worry that you're not getting enough to eat. I worry that you're hungry or in pain. I worry that I'll never be able to give you what you need to thrive or to help you eat better. These anxieties plague me, but I hope that things will soon turn around. I want the best for you, Ethan, and I just hope that I can provide it.
Already, I cannot imagine life without you. You've made me a mother, and my identity will never be the same as a result. So grow, young Ethan, and thrive. Just don't grow too fast.
Love,
Mommy
I cannot believe it's been a month. One month since I held you, screaming, on my chest for the first time. One month since you stared up at me with those big, wide eyes for the first time. One month since I first attempted breastfeeding, only to realize after a minute that you'd latched on beside my nipple instead of on it (oops). One month since I began to realize that our lives would never be the same again.
As I sit here with you asleep in the Moby on my chest, I am filled with such awe and wonder at the person you're becoming. How tiny you look (and are) still and yet how much you look like a little boy when you're decked out in your footie pajamas. How alert you are when you stare at the world around you. And how I'm learning every day to follow your cues to provide you with what you need. The sense of pride I feel when I calm your crying or get you to sleep. My relief at your sleeping through the night (for now), but also my sadness that for those 6+ straight hours, I cannot cuddle you and kiss your forehead. I am happiest when you're in my arms, even when you're screaming.
And as a mother, I'm not without worries. I worry that you're still not back to your birth weight. I worry that you're not getting enough to eat. I worry that you're hungry or in pain. I worry that I'll never be able to give you what you need to thrive or to help you eat better. These anxieties plague me, but I hope that things will soon turn around. I want the best for you, Ethan, and I just hope that I can provide it.
Already, I cannot imagine life without you. You've made me a mother, and my identity will never be the same as a result. So grow, young Ethan, and thrive. Just don't grow too fast.
Love,
Mommy
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