The Whole of Her

I just rocked my sweet baby to sleep. She is almost a year old and it is the first time she has allowed me to rock her to sleep in months. I am still nursing and although she often dozes, she always twitches and awakes, signaling me to put her in her crib. She can be cuddly, my little bean, but she is not the snuggle baby she was when she was new.

It's funny, those early days were not the easiest. There is no denying that at the time I felt like I might not survive, but in truth, that adjustment period holds such sweet memories for me now. She was so tiny when we brought her home. Born at 6 pounds 13 ounces, she was down to a little over 6 pounds when we left the hospital. Ironically, I was stupefied that something so big had just come out of me. That just days before, this thing, this baby, had been inside me. I am still awed by the concept of birth. That you go in as one person and come out as two.

Those first nights at the hospital, I couldn't sleep for staring at my baby. She was so perfect. All of my fears allayed. I wish I could say that there was one thing that I hone in on as a highlight of that time, but the truth is that the whole experience left me breathless. Which is not to say that there weren't down times, because I am human after all, but every part of my baby was my favorite thing. I simply and elaborately loved the whole of her. Her smell, her little fingers and toes, her button nose and pouty lips, the little sighs she made as she settled in to sleep or nurse, the color of her eyes, her impossibly smooth skin, even her cries.

Because she was mine.

In a way that no one or thing has ever been before. The whole of that love washed over me and converted me to the church of Sophie. She became my center, my focus, my heart. I am still in awe of her and all that she has become, but sometimes, when things are quiet, I long for those newborn days when everything was new.



Best of luck to Rebecca and Kristen with the whole of your new babies!