Dear Eli,
When Sophia was about a year old, your Daddy asked me for my thoughts on when we'd have another baby. To his surprise and dismay, it spurred on a rush of tears from me and I had trouble verbalizing why. It wasn't that I didn't want to give your sister a sibling, because I absolutely wanted to; we had always talked about wanting more kids. It was that I loved every second of motherhood and couldn't imagine losing out on experiencing all of those firsts with her and only her. I didn't want to miss out on any more time while it was just the three of us. I guess the simplest way to explain what I was feeling is that... I was unsure how I could possibly learn to share my heart.
Today you are three weeks old, which means we've arrived at your original due date. I remember when we had scheduled my induction, time seemed to suddenly speed up -- the weeks were flying by and there didn't seem to be enough weekends to get your nursery reorganized and all your little clothes washed and folded away, and the car seat in or the pack and play set up. And while I had wished for more time then, now that you've been with us I couldn't imagine it any other way.
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| Today at 3 weeks old! |
Even a bit early, you came in to this world at 7 lbs, 0.35 oz, and 20.25 inches long. We wonder how much bigger you would be today! You had a full head of thick, dark hair, the feel of it much like your dad's now. (My OB was trying to describe it while I was pushing you out and encouraged me to 'reach down there and touch his head,' so I actually did and freaked myself out a bit). The resemblance to your big sister as a baby was uncanny. There are numerous similarities, but slight differences too. You have long fingers and "Jana finger toes," which one day you'll understand once you meet your aunt.
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| Your sister vs. you... twinning! |
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| "Hi, I'm new here. Are you my Mommy?" |
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| Aunt Jana finger toes |
You were born during an extremely interesting time. We are in the midst of a pandemic, where the safest thing for us to do is to socially distance ourselves to stay healthy. Timing-wise, we had planned to be home-bound anyway, but the most difficult part is that our families are still unable to meet you. Fortunately for technology, you made your debut via FaceTime and Zoom to extended family on your Yeh-Yeh's birthday, and even through our kitchen window with your daddy's parents, but we're hoping that one day soon that your grandparents and great-Nan and aunts and uncles and many others that love you will be able to see and feel you in person.
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| Zoom with extended family |
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| Happy 69th birthday, Yeh-Yeh! (on 3/31/20) |
Your sister, though, who is around... She is absolutely in awe of you. The hospital wasn't allowing visitors, so to our disappointment we had to wait until after discharge to introduce her to you and she was crazy excited to catch her first glimpse of your face. Every day she diligently washes her hands (singing "Happy Birthday" twice) as soon as she comes home so that she can hold you, and some days she refuses to let you go. We've included you in her bedtime routine so that she can feed you or have you at her side during storytime. Last night, she stayed up until 9:30 because she was waiting for me to read to her, so I convinced her to join me in the nursery where I fed you and read to her as she flipped the pages for me. Learning to multitask!
Singing "Rock-A-Bye Baby" (and other songs she makes up)
Right now you are napping (sort of) in between meals, so I thought I'd use this precious little time I have to tell you about yourself and these first few weeks. You are by no means a quiet baby, which is why I said you were "sort of" napping. Most times you are making some kind of noise -- a creak (to which Sophia has affectionately nicknamed you "the creaky door"), a grunt, a gurgle, a sneeze, a cough, a short cry -- so I check in on you and your eyes are closed or fluttering. When I burp you, you're humming along, so with each pat there's an alternate sound and it makes me laugh. You're active in your sleep too. Sometimes you've wiggled almost perpendicular from where I had laid you down, your legs up in the air and your tiny fists at your side. You seem to be able to nearly roll to one side already. Like your sister, you manage to always kick off a sock or flail away a mitten or wiggle off your hat. We seem to always flop your ears back whenever we put your hats on, and have determined that the shape of your ears are a mixture of both your dad's and mine. Diaper changes usually involve a small foot right into your own mess and subsequent crying, which at times can escalate until it appears that your lips and cheeks are vibrating, while I try to minimize the poo splattering and potential fountain of pee on other things. (Yes, I've been reduced to using those words).
"When my mom thinks everything is cute... including my hiccups."
Yet in your quiet moments, you are the sweetest boy. You can lie down awake and look at the world around you, sometimes with your noisy commentary. Your hiccups come on as frequently as they did while you were in my belly, and somehow even those are adorable. I love how you fit perfectly in that small space on my shoulder, cuddled up in a ball with me rubbing your back. That was one of my favorite memories with Sophia, and time had passed too quickly before she had grown too big for that spot. But for now, I don't even mind that it's right where my port is, because I know to cherish this moment that I can snuggle with you there. Sometimes when I touch your cheek, you do this smirky thing in your sleep. Other times you open your eyes and look at me, and I tell you I'm your momma. The first time you did that, it was almost as if you recognized me and were asking, "Are you my mommy, the one who was talking to me all that time? The one telling me to stay with you, through it all?" Yes, it was me, and I'm so glad you did. Yesterday I told you I loved you and you smiled in response, and when I repeated it and you smiled again, my heart melted. I love every baby smell, and sneak whiffs of your hair, whether freshly washed or matted under your cap, and don't even mind your milk breath when we're doing tummy time, or even more still when I know you need a diaper change.
Nighttime is your party time. Your sister would hardly nap during the day but you're the opposite. Usually around 10-11 pm, you're wide awake and ready for a feast. And boy, can you eat! We were able to obtain generously donated breastmilk from a couple of friends, and you are mowing through it. Whenever you're really hungry and becoming impatient, your mouth flaps open like a baby bird and you start sucking on your hands, so we do this funny bit where I'm trying to get the nipple in your mouth before you snap it shut again while prying your hands away. Today you actually grabbed on to the bottle and could essentially feed yourself. Do you even need me anymore?
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| "Hey ladies!" |
"I'm so hungry I will feed on my hands. Tasty."
"I got this."
I'm enjoying this time with you. With Soph, I was constantly vacillating somewhere between joy and terror... the goal was to keep her alive, of course, and I obviously didn't want to fail at that. This second time around, I'm a bit more confident since I've decided I kind of know what I'm doing. Beyond that and my treatments, fighting through the fatigue (of having a newborn or chemo, who knows which), late night/early morning feedings, napping when you nap or prepping for your next feeding... the blur and humdrum routine of it, the peace and simple joys of motherhood again, of you needing me for a little while longer... I'm happy, I'm content, and I'm savoring it all.
And I realize now, after all those years since that night when I thought I couldn't share my heart -- I was wrong and silly to believe that. My heart is wide open again, and you, my sweet, darling, amazing, miracle son, have a huge place in it.
Love,
Mommy
