Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Candid Candid.

5 months later... and she is huge. My pile of chub has discovered her fingers and toes, grabs at everything, eats off a spoon, rolls over both ways and is finally sleeping better. I can not remember life without her or what it was like to live without loving a little person so intensely...

But, at times, I find that I almost wish that this stage of my life could have been held off for a year or two. Yes, it has become a little easier and I have learned to adjust a little bit more... But honestly, I sit and feel sorry for myself as all of my pretty dresses no longer fit or have opportunities to be worn, as my daily routine has morphed into an exhausting progression of feedings, diaper changes, bouncing, stiff necks, frustrating attempts to "get something done" and the sighs that accompany the daydreams of how I could be spending my weeks. I want to be free to do as I please, to read, to travel, to be a wife, to be a friend, to be a student, to stay up late and to sleep in. She has stretched (physically and metaphorically speaking) me to my limits as none other and completely changed everything about everything. I don't usually feel like wiping poopy buns every few minutes (it feels like), or nursing, or never getting enough sleep or struggling to do the housework. I don't like being confronted with my lack of character every hour on the hour and being forced to change.

However, I keep feeling a twinge of something painful at odd moments throughout the day. It is the half-realization that I am living the moments that I will look back on with fondness for the rest of my life, that these little fingers and toes will not stay little forever and that one day, I will ache for a cuddle with my little baby again. One day, I will not have a little head to brush, round cheeks to wipe or a little body to wash and dress.

Today after reading this blogpost that was shared by a friend, those half-realizations came into sharp focus. I can not believe how utterly for granted I have taken these hard months. Already she has completely changed from the newborn she was, already moments have come and gone. I have seen this foggily, and even spoken of "wow how time flies," but really never let it take root. Too often I have let impatience and selfish wishes tarnish the blessing that each and every moment is. Every night as I put my little girl to bed, I thank God for the blessing of Leilani. But have I truly realized how much I have to be thankful for?

Five months later... and I have woken up. I thank God that it didn't take longer, and I pray that I will not forget the realization that "I'm gonna miss this," and that these moments are precious gifts some never have.

"Father, please teach me to patiently savor everything, from the sweet eye-to-eye moments, to the crying, squirming diaper changes late at night. Show me the delight that everything holds and the divine calling that Motherhood really is.

Thank You, Thank You."