10 thoughts about my new life with the little man...
1. Besides Sunday morning when we had to be at church at 9am, I can’t recall one day since Jude’s arrival when I’ve been remotely prepared to leave my house before 12pm. Sometimes, David comes home at 5pm and I’m still not ready.
2. Before Jude came, I remember telling someone that I thought I might be bored as a stay at home mom. I didn’t know what I’d do all day. I’m still not sure what I do all day now. But I’m not bored.
3. Jude is a voracious eater. He looks like a miniature football player. He eats like one too.
4. Jude does not spit up often, but when he does it makes up for the days of no spit up. For this reason, I’ve taken to draping the couch with blankets before I burp him. On Monday, I walked unsuspectingly into the kitchen with Jude on my shoulder. He gave no warning. He simply covered the kitchen floor in unwanted milk. David attempted to assist but could only find a frying pan to catch the flow. Needless to say, that was rather ineffective.
5. I am entirely confident that my stomach will never, never be the same again….even if Jillian Michaels were my personal trainer.
6. Say what you will. At 2 weeks, Jude is already enjoying the pacifier. I confess I am enjoying it too.
7. Jude’s a bit unpredictable. Sometimes he sleeps the whole night, except when I am feeding him. Then there are nights like last night. By 3am, his pattern was fairly predictable. Feed Jude and he will stay awake for the next 3 hours.
8. Sometimes I watch runners fly past me on the sidewalk and wonder if I’ll ever run again. Considering it’s only been two weeks, I really do feel great….until I lace up my tennis shoes and go for a walk. I can make it about a mile before I hit a wall. A mile...walking.
9. I’ve given Jude several bird baths since he arrived home from the hospital. I realize that some newborns have an aversion to baths. Not Jude. He lays his little head back in the baby tub and I use the kitchen sink sprayer to wash his hair. So far, not a peep.
10. As most of you know, I’m a fairly emotional gal. Thus, I wondered what postpartum life would hold for me. Certainly, I’ve had moments where I’ve felt sad and overwhelmed. I am sure I will have many more. At this point though, the emotional aftermath of the birth has taken the form of heightened awareness of the sacredness of these passing moments.
e.g. David walks into the living room to find me holding Jude as tears stream down my face. He takes my hand and asks me what is wrong. I burst into sobs and explain that I love this season. I love holding sweet little Jude as a baby. I like his smell, the shape of his nose, the young innocence of his eyes, the clutch of his tiny fingers. I feel time rushing past me. The knowledge that life is but a breath solidifies with each passing year. It is not that I dread the end of life. In that thought, I find unspeakable joy and hope. But I do love the seasons that God has designed as the natural course of the lives of most mortals. It is hard sometimes to know how to drink in the beauty of a precious season and all the while walk forward into a new phase of life with expectant hope. Life is progressing. The very visible progression of a newborn wakes in me a deeper awareness of the frailty and irreversibility of life, as we who dwell in time, know it.