Thursday, December 2, 2010

A Ten-Month Funk

I need a good talking to. Somebody snap me out of this.

H is ten months old today. And instead of celebrating the fact that we've made it through most of his first year without breaking him or (hopefully) causing him any long-term damage, I'm sitting here bawling.

He seems so big all of a sudden. He's moving around so much more independently, and I suspect his first solo steps are just around the corner. He recognizes words. He's losing that little baby look. And he actually pushes me away sometimes when I try to kiss him or comfort him after he's bumped his head.

Of course -- of course -- I want him to grow and become more independent. That's the whole point, right? I get it. But there is something so deeply sad about watching these baby days wane right in front of me.

I've loved this time. I wish I could go back and do it again -- yes, all of it. The newborn nights that seemed to never end. The marathon feedings, the days of no showers. The very real trepidation about leaving the house alone with this tiny being who, I was sure, could break if I made the wrong move. I'd take it all just to remember what it felt like to hold him when he was that tiny.

I know I'm being dramatic. I know he's only 10 months old, still just a baby, and when he's four, five or 15 I'm going to look back on this post and think how ridiculous I was, and wish I could go back to this very moment.

I guess part of this is just knowing that this could be it. I've been so insanely happy taking care of this baby and I know I could be saying goodbye to this time with no hope of experiencing it again.

Sometimes I wonder whether wanting another baby is about wanting to relive H's pregnancy and infancy, to go back and right the things I did wrong. To enjoy it more. To let it really soak in.

Either way, I now understand that the angst of secondary infertility is very real. I would not have said this in the midst of the struggle to conceive H. They already had a baby, I would have said, so they don't understand what it feels like to want one.

But I get it now: We know what it's like. And we know what we'll be missing if we can't have it again.

5 comments:

Roccie said...

Ha. Snap out of it. As if! ;)

Ten months is a big man. I bet you are feeling overwhelmed by the loss of all his newbornhood. I miss it too.

Here is the bad news. This never goes away. Just last night I was holding Toddlerina, all fat and sturdy in my arms. She now rests her head on my shoulders and I tried to soak it all in to memorize it because I was "The Happiest Momma Ever".

I live in constant fear I wont remember how great this all was. I get it.

Your last line is powerful.

Crazy Lesbian Mom said...

Beautifully written...

Frenchie said...

Yes. Yes. Yes. It sucks. I am going through the same angst with Grace--almost 8 mos. old. She's almost walking. Every day I find myself saying 'please stay a baby a little longer!' It is going too fast. And, I desperately want to relive it all too.

birdsandsquirrels said...

Oh Egg, I'm feeling the exact same thing right now! I look at Birdie and she is a little person now, and it freaks me out how fast this is going by. I often think to myself "this is probably the happiest time of your life so soak it up, savor it", and I try to live in the moment, but it makes me sad too.
I am also wondering about trying for a second, and getting to redo that pregnancy and baby time.

Amanda said...

I'm not experiencing what you are. Things are pretty hectic for us. M's sleep has badly regressed and I'm exhausted.

Although I dream of a snuggly newborn again, I remember the reality of that time too well right now and I can't really imagine going though it all again yet. I'd prefer to stretch out this parenting thing I think and really be able to enjoy M before having another, so, if everything else stays the same, at least another year before we even think about tying again, and hopefully 2 or 3. If we never have another (biological) child I think we can be happy.

 
design by suckmylolly.com