All things about her are worth remembering

Saddened by the recent events at Flotsam-please stop by and give Alexa a hug.

I know things have changed a lot in the world of parenting since my mother's day, but all the same, I am continually curious to know she managed her own adventures in childrearing. Perhaps, as I dither over every choice- (which nappies to use! when to start solids! is the nursery too hot or cold! should I buy a jumperoo thingie!-)it comforts me to hear that my mother apparently used an entirely different approach and yet I still turned out to be a relatively healthy, well-adjusted individual. That is, at least so far.

Unfortunately, it would also appear that she has blocked out a lot of what went on, since a number of my queries were met with a bemused shrug and a simple response of "I can't remember."  I gather the years of coping with two children born eighteen months apart was not exactly a terribly happy time for my mother. At first I felt a tiny bit aggrieved by the idea that the moments of my precious infancy were not forever emblazoned into my parents' memory banks. So what if it was nearly forty years ago! So what if my mom was so busy and overwhelmed it made her head spin! Surely it was too good- or at least too important- to forget?   

Then I started to think about how much of Botany's first weeks are already a fuzzy blur. The newborn amnesia seems to be taking hold. And while it may be part of nature's plan to numb the rough edges of the experience that as a species we willingly go through it again, I realised that even though a lot of it wasn't exactly what I'd call fun, I want to be able to tell my daughter everything.

So before the shutters of my memory go down completely over that crazy, chaotic, miraculous time here is some of what I remember:

I remember Botany had been home for about three days when E. got food poisoning and lay on the sofa all night and wouldn't go near the baby because he was afraid he was somehow contagious. Botany screamed her head off until about midnight and I sat on the floor of the nursery, changing her for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, crying hysterically. I finally put her in her cradle and pulled the covers over my exhausted head, deciding I would let her cry on her own for just five minutes so I could get a moment's rest. The next thing I knew it was 2am, and all was quiet. 

I remember the first time she smiled at me. It was my birthday and she had been typically crankypants all day and then, when I finished feeding her she looked up at me and gave me a big happy look. Best birthday present ever.   

I remember how much she cried day in, day out.

I remember the exquisite pain of the first couple weeks of breastfeeding, the muffled squeak of agony from my throat every time she latched on. I remember having to endure the red hot poker pain every other hour.

I remember my dad sitting holding Botany in the rocking chair every day for an hour and half while she slept.

I remember the day the health visitor came to the house to weigh Botany. I got the baby undressed and just as we were about to put her on the scales, Botany pooped all over me.

I remember the house being swamped with cards and baby presents. I was stunned and gladdened by the incredible kindness of friends and neighbours.

I remember how we had so much stuff to pack when we went on holiday that we had to hire a bigger car. I was so worried about how she would be on the long drive and then she slept like an angel the whole way.

I remember going to bed, exhausted, wondering how I was going to find the energy to get up and do it all over again tomorrow- bearing in mind that tomorrow started in about two hours.

I remember staggering out of bed in the middle of the night, over and over again to feed her. When she would finally drop off, I would sit and hold her for an extra minute, transfixed by the sight of a sleeping baby in my arms.

I remember, after one particularly horrendous day crying as we sat nursing for hours and hours. Finally I blew my nose one of those damn ubiquitous muslin squares, held the baby a little closer and resolved to embrace all parts of the experience, good and bad- because after all, she was only going to be three weeks old for this small small space of time. Then it would be gone, in the blink of an eye- except for whatever memories I can manage to carefully store up- for years to come, for later, for when she needs them herself.

Comments

[Sam]

A sweet, wonderful post that she will treasure someday.

[Em]

I was thinking this today. Baby Eggs is only going to be this age for such a brief time and I should embrace all the good and hard stuff. Like her flinging her bowl of apple puree and custard all over the place, giving me a gig while I am changing her after her bath and her wanting the same book read three times in a row.

[Not on Fire]

I have a journal where I write down the occasional "What are you doing today?" for my boys. I go back and read it and it all comes back. It is such a hard time when they are small, but so worth it. Each age brings new and wonderful things.

[Tam]

I remember my husband chasing me across the house with the baby, shouting 'Oh, MILKBAR!' while I protested guiltily 'He can't want feeding again already!' with my arms laced protectively across my poor nipples. Unfortunately, given my episiotomy stitches slowed me down considerably, they always seemed to catch me in the end. Good times.

[Anne]

Yes...the newborn days (looking back on them from a year down the road) just seemed so RAW to me--every emotion was out and exposed to the elements, both the highs and the lows. It was great in its own way, but last night my 13 month old slept from 7PM to 7AM, and made me ever-more-grateful that the sleep deprivation does finally end.

[Anna H.]

beautiful! and i love it that she gave you her first smile on your birthday.

[Franziska]

You are so about writing it all down and have done it so beautifully. My daughter is 2 months and I keep thinking I should write it down ... but haven't yet. I think this was the post I needed to start doing it. Thanks!

[Lut C.]

I've had one of those posts brewing for weeks, but can't seem to catch enough computer time to write it. Maybe a paper notebook is a better idea. :-)