It has been nearly two months since I blogged; two months of nappies, leaky boobs, baby sick, and love. Woah, has he grown! Tempus fugit. These precious days of new things and challenges, are so wondrous; so poignant. I’m sitting in bed beside a snuffly little Freddie; his first cold has developed into a chest infection; and as I sat in the doctors waiting room this afternoon I found the tears welling in my eyes as my little boy coughed. Never before have I loved so much. If only it could be me coughing [actually I DO have a cough, but that’s not the point] Never before have I worried so much, cared so much. Baby boy will be fine, his momma will cuddle him and feed him her milk, she will sing him to sleep with out of tune lullabies and she will feed him the yellow coloured strange smelling antibiotic “juice”. This is the first “illness” of many, and I know that I have to reassure him, that he can’t see my tears and fears. It is life, I tell myself … life is going to happen to him whether I like it or not. I am not immortal, I cannot stop the world from hurting him, from germs infecting him.
Prior to the plague descending, baby boy and momma have got into a great routine of Baby Sensory classes, Baby Swimming [oh, how I LOVE the swimming!], Tiny Tots and brisk walks in the park. We sip coffee with other mummies, and we ponder the “Wonder Weeks” and the transition from 0-3 to 3-6month clothes. This Thursday it will be TWELVE weeks since Fredders burst out of my vagina and into the world. Twelve wonderful weeks. Twelve weeks when I’ve worried more, slept less, and LOVED more than ever before. I remain amazed that it is possible to function on such little sleep. I’m equally amazed that evolution has not given women more than two hands.
Now I must curl up beside my little boy and attempt some sleep … I will try to blog more often, as there are often anecdotes I would like to share.