Archive for the ‘Baby!’ Category

In the small dark hours, our house is quiet — the noise of the day, of your brothers, of our life has fallen away into slumber.

You lie here, tucked between us in our bed, the bed where you were born. You own your space like an intrepid explorer staking claim — one hand outstretched in sleep to find your father, the other entwining fat fingers in my hair. Your breaths are deep and regular and slow.

You sleep like an intrepid explorer staking claim.

Soon you will begin to rouse from sleep, becoming restless — teething is hard and has brought a return to night nursing. You will turn up onto your side and wriggle over to me, fitting together with me like Yin and Yang as I wrap myself around you. You will latch without waking.

weesmalhours

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You were drunk and sweaty, and reeked of cigarette smoke. You were wearing a red shirt and a medal. You were walking with a friend. It was late afternoon and the rain had stopped, the sun making the air sultry with humidity.

I was on my way to the store to run an errand after work.

I was wearing my baby in a carrier on my chest. I was watching the post-run competitors walking past me, each in their own happy group of friends, laughing and chatting about their day.

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As I sit here typing this, I am listening to Miss Vee — 9 days old — snoring away in squeaks and snorts on my lap. She is a wonderful sleeper, as long as she is held. As she is Baby#4, I feel no resentment at being trapped on a bed, cuddling her while she sleeps — these days will pass all too fast.

Miss Vee

Yesterday was the last day I snuggled an 8 day old.

Tomorrow will be the last day I will cuddle a 10 day old.

I am counting down these precious “lasts” one moment at a time, filing them away in my memory to savour when she is older.

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There are some things in life for which one must wait. Miss Vee’s entrance into this world, just before midnight on the 25th of February, at 41w2d, was one of these.

Waiting is impossible when you are ready for something to end, and even more impossible when waiting for something better to begin.

The potted hyacinths in our bedroom were purchased and replaced four times over. The irony of watching forced bulbs grow, bloom with the promise of Spring, and then wither while waiting for her birth was not lost on me. There is only so much you can do to force the narcissus — in the end, you must still wait for the bud to open.

I would like to say I could write up a detailed birth story for her, but the truth is I can’t.

Miss Vee

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