This morning, my DH (Dear Husband) encouraged me to write a post about Emma – not about a baby-related topic or any other topic but share my feelings about Emma and being her Mama.
Emma is back down for her late morning nap and instead of doing laundry, vacuuming or trimming the Hydrangea on our porch, I am taking a moment to write this post in honor of Emma’s upcoming half birthday.
When I first touched you, and you crawled up to my breast, we both knew we’d be bound together forever. Something intensely awesome had just happened. A miracle. You were born. My little girl. My daughter.
It’s been almost six months since you’ve joined our little family. Which means, it’s been 174 days since we’ve brought you home from the hospital. In other words, I’ve been without proper sleep for 173 nights. No offense but it’s been
The first few weeks of our life together, I was so worried about e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g: Whether you got enough sleep, enough milk, enough love. Whether you would get sick, gain enough weight. Whether you were too cold, not comfortable enough. Whether we changed your diaper often enough making sure you wouldn’t get a diaper rash. Whether I would be a good mom, Paul a good dad and Griffin a fun companion.
Yes, your Mama is a worry wart. No matter how much I pray and try to rely on God to lift those burdens off my shoulders, I just can’t help it.
But you know the reason for my worries? I love you so very much that I can’t stand the thought of anything bad happen to you. Truth is, bad things will happen to you. You will get a flu eventually, you will fall and scrape your knees, friends will hurt you, your parents will disappoint you. That’s life.
But, the truth is that there’s a Father looking out for you. By that I don’t mean your dad. He will, of course, protect you as much as he can. No, I’m talking about your Heavenly Father. The one who is watching over you, me, Papa, Omi, your aunt Meike, your cousin Lasse, even our dog. God says, ” I have come into the world as light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness.” ~ John 12:46. I guess, we should be faithful and let Him deal with our dark fears.
Yet, this lack of sleep is really getting to me. I know you’re not doing this on purpose. I know you love me. I can feel it. When you wake up in the morning and you look at me – that big smile on your face is priceless. You’re such a happy and positive baby. Seeing your personality develop is one of your parents’ greatest blessings. We can already tell that you’re so bold and strong-willed, your persistence and ambition amaze us every day.
With only 12 weeks of age, you learned how to grab and hold on to things. Quickly, you’ve figured out how to rake things towards you, pick them up and play with them.
When you learned how to roll over, it seemed like a whole new world has opened up to you. Wait until you’ll work out this crawling thing. Sometimes you already push yourself up and lift your buttocks into the air and I think to myself ‘oh my, she’s gonna crawl soon’.
You’ve gotten pretty good at this sitting up stuff. Funny enough, you seem to be sitting better by yourself than with support. (I’m still gonna put those pillows around you. You can complain all you want.)
During the day, I find myself watching you play on your blanket, happily cooing and finding simple joy in all of your toys. Recently, you discovered Griffin. I swear, you are talking to Griffin. When you see him near you, your tiny hands try to pet him, you’re flashing your brightest smile (which I so frickin’ love!) and when you manage to touch him you make this squeaky noise that you always make when you’re excited.
I have been walking with you strapped to my body in the Ergo, my neck, shoulders and back aching yet not minding the discomfort at all if only it brought you comfort.
I love rubbing my nose on your cheeks and covering your soft skin with kisses. You scream joyfully every time I do the raspberry on your belly during diaper changes. On that note, could you stop kicking so much while I try to clean your butt?
You’re kicking a lot in general. Especially during bath time. It’s hard to believe that your first few baths were torture according to your feedback, ie. crying from the top of your lungs. You hated it. These days, you can’t seem to get enough splash time, you little dolphin. What fun it will be to teach you how to swim!
When we go grocery shopping together, you always talk up a storm. Apparently, other people also find you quite entertaining. You’re a social butterfly. Whether you show complete strangers in the elevator your brightest smile or you hang out with your girlfriends Scarlett and Eva and your big buddy Jonah, you love other people.
Oh, you just woke up. I can hear you talk to your dolphin. You sound so happy and content. I bet you’re trying to eat your feet again.
I am very blessed. And so are you, my dear daughter. Papa is working really hard to allow me to stay home with you so I can raise you, teach you, love on you. Paul and me both were raised by nannies (me) and in daycare (daddy). We always missed our parents and we wanted something better for you while you were so little.
Speaking of something better, I need to apologize to you. The other day, after another sleepless night, I lost my patience and yelled at you. I had been trying to put you down for your nap over and over again. You were so tired, showing all signs of sleepiness but you just wouldn’t want to fall asleep. Dang it, girl. Why do you always fight me on this?
Emma, you are such an adorable, smart, funny and cuddly little baby. Within seconds you took over my life and despite all the fear of failure, I love every second of being your mom. (Ok, maybe not those when you and I fight over sleepy time.)
Ich liebe dich!