Dear Baby M,
At the start of this week you’ve been in our lives for 90 days. It seems like a short time when I say it aloud but it already feels like I’ve been in love with you forever.
I will always remember the precise moment I fell in love with you. It wasn’t when you were born and it wasn’t when I spent two hours staring at your tiny little fingers. It wasn’t when your grandparents held you in their arms nor when your dad took what felt like the millionth photo of you.
It was at about 3am, three days after you were born. The nurse had woken me saying you needed a feed. You were hungry but refused to latch on even with the nipple guard. Your face was going red in frustration as a tear leaked out from my eye at being unable to figure out this feeding business. I looked around helplessly. The nurse had left us alone and mumma was taking a pee break. Ofcourse, at the volume you were crying we wouldn’t be alone for long.
We must have both decided to try again as we almost simultaneously took a deep breath in. And then, the magic seemed to happen. You latched on and your little cheeks started to move as you suckled away at my breast. I grinned widely and looked around, wanting to show off that we had finally figured it out. A few minutes later you had drifted off. Just as I was about to get up and put you into the cot, your tiny fingers curled around the hem of my top and you grinned toothlessly in your sleep. That moment, my darling was when I fell in love.
The past 90 days haven’t been easy. I hadn’t thought they would be. After all, I was always that awkward girl who never knew what to say to kids and got bored shaking a rattle after about five minutes. In fact I had spent much of my pregnancy worrying if I’d feel the same around you.
Blessed, Angry, Happy, Frustrated, Excited, Tired, Overjoyed, Anxious. These are just some of the emotions I’ve felt on a loop these past 90 days. But boredom? No. There’s not a single thing about you that’s boring! In fact, I now worry I am becoming one of those women who talks about her child all the time.
As you complete 90 days with us, I’ve already learnt so much.
Your cute toothless grin after being fed has taught me that anger is a wasted emotion. Your tiny hands that jerk a hundred times as you learn to grasp that rattle has taught me that failure is a good thing. Your cries when I don’t get to you right away have taught me the importance of asserting my needs.
Thanks to you, I’ve re-learnt happiness. Happiness is having you tuck your head between my neck and shoulder. Happiness is us falling asleep in the middle of the day our hands curled together. Happiness is you grinning widely at me as you finally learn how to shake that rattle on your 90th day with me.
Happy 90 days Baby M.