At this very moment, you are not yet two months old and I am already typing the letter to you! Compare that to last month’s late letter, well, I say we have improved. Of course, it helps that you are happily napping at the edge of the bed while I am writing this. Erm, okay, it sounds worse than it really is. You woke up from a nap, I held you, my arms got tired, I dumped you on the bed to rest my sore biceps and whoops, you fell asleep. In situations like these, I am all LET SLEEPING BABIES LIE.
These past four weeks have been trying, challenging and enriching for all of us. Sometimes, it feels like parenthood is an elaborate dance: one step forward, two steps back. Just when we thought we had you figured out, something comes along and changes the rhythm. For instance, you were contentedly sleeping for longer stretches at night, requiring only one feed in the wee hours. We were getting better at putting you to sleep.
And then we said hello to the 6-week growth spurt and everything went to pieces. A week later, Wonder Week 5 swung into action and BAM! we were back on that roller coaster ride all over again.
But that’s parenthood. It gets easier but not necessarily better. I still lose my patience with you, when I can’t figure out what is stopping you from sleeping in the day. Your dad still gets mad when you can’t stop crying. But we try and we try to get through to you, hoping that whatever it is we are doing will help you eventually. That you will realize, despite your incessant crying, that we are here for you and we love you very, very much.
We are making progress though, in tiny bits and pieces. Just the other day, you woke up from a nap and stared at me with your beautiful big eyes. I decided to leave the room to get a drink before coaxing you back to sleep and when I returned, you were fast asleep in your cot. You should have seen the mental leap of joy I took.
And oh, the little coos that you are making now! I no longer feel like a babbling idiot, telling you what I am having for lunch and what’s hanging on the wall. You coo and you gaa and you make funny faces at me. And that impish, cheeky smile of yours! These fleeting moments make my day and erase all the frustration and exhaustion instantly.
So yes, it’s getting easier. I feel more confident, more at ease. Most days, I still don’t know what I am doing but I am trusting more in my instincts now. And I am trusting that eventually, you will grow and learn. To sleep. To soothe yourself. To calm down.
You growing up is a bittersweet experience for us. While we are looking forward to the day we can hold a conversation with you, we also cannot believe how fast you are leaving your infancy behind. You were so tiny once and so precious and fragile. We can only take photos and shoot videos as a reminder of what you were once.
Every time I hold you in my arms, I tell myself to breathe in the sweet, sweaty baby smell of you. And when you nurse, I drink in your adorable, drunken expressions. On days when you decide that I am your bed and you sink into deep sleep on my chest, I cuddle you and revel in your small body and cute fetal position.
Because one day, you wouldn’t want to nurse anymore. And you will no longer smell the same. And you will outgrow my chest and sleep ‘properly’ in your crib. You will rather explore the world than to be draped all over me.
And then I will look back and miss all these wonderful moments.
I love you more than I could ever have imagined. Happy two months, baby boy.