Baby Stardreamer

Tonight I realized something has happened. You are growing. As splendid as it is, there is a betwixt emotion to it because the more you grow the more you slip away from me into your own person. A profound and wonderful thing, but painful none the less. First you would dwell inside me. Now, we are separated so I can hold you and you can hold onto me but you still eat everything I eat. You have somehow grown into a four month old body but to me you are still my tiny 6 lb. miracle that I could hold forever and never stop looking at. I still want to wake with you in the night, feed you every few hours, be everything you need me to be, but your needs are changing. I just read you should only be eating 4-6 times a day and can go 10-11 hours sleeping without eating. My heart saw the iridescent soapy bubble pop without an audible sound in front of me-you are soon not going to need my food. You are going to be a big boy eating 3 meals a day walking about. Where's my baby?

I heard a Rob Bell Mars Hill sermon about the rightful place of "lamenting." He spoke that we need to lament to process change. But your or our changes feel like a remote with the fast forward button pushed. Your growth rate is unbelievably rapid (how do the poor cows handle growth hormones?!!?!! And...who would even create such a thing?!?!!) Life moves at a pace well enough on its own!

I feel like I waited so long for you to come and now that you are here you are charging at full speed and I would be quite content to kick on back into 2nd gear (okay maybe a brief idle in neutral baby zone). :) I wonder how God can see times beginning and ends simultaneously. I enjoy our time together when we dawdle about with simple tasks so that I have 30 minutes of you just sitting in my arms feeding or sleeping and we can just "be" together. I sit and watch you laying on the floor playing and examining. The time when some dads go dazed and donut eyed looking about for something else to do because time and movement feel more like s-l-o-wmotion.

It makes me wonder how time feels based upon perspective. The elephant gestation period is three years. Colts learn to stand after they are born. What really fascinates me is thinking about time to you. Our present "now" is radical. Every "now" moment is new because you are new everyday. A few days ago you pet Hero for the first time. Today you started acting startled and jumpy from the vacuum, grocery store, and noises. Your eyes grew big and you clung to me and your legs flit about until you secured yourself to the alteration. This is all new. Tomorrow I will feel you experience something else.

I think this is partly why God created nursing the way he did. I am supposed to be with you and you with me. And I realize why my mother calls so frequently. How do you separate the mental "we thinking" when for so many years it set your daily pace? God designed us to meld in and out of one another; something so close and yet distinctively separate entities. I love your changes and growth but I still desire the intimate and exact closeness in the specialness of this intricately bound life we currently share.

I feel so thankful in and out to be able to luxuriously spend all this time in "us." You are my job. You are my single focus. I get to actively feel all these changes occurring between us and not suffer the injury of premature separation. I'm also crazy right now for the firstborn feeling. I finally totally get why my older brother and your Daddy are the golden boys in the family because you perfect one are mine. I used to joke with your Dad and Uncle Jeff about Seinfeld's moms' golden boy complex when it is booming back in my face. Like I said, your perfect and perfectly mine. My first and only boy. When other moms are fretting over four kiddos and stressing I look at you and our easy life and say out loud, "thank you." After feeling pressed by fifteen students needing my attention plus five other tasks at hand I can now have only you. I love our twosome and better yet threesome when Daddy is around. There is this beautiful new addition to our marriage. You have created a new family feeling. Your Daddy and I have this new bond because of you which makes me feel closer to him than ever before. The only other person in the world who can feel what I feel for you is him.

Many times when we are out people comment to us about you growing older making jokes insinuating negative connotations about the early years of parenthood. We smile back knowing they are just trying to make conversation but can not relate the humor. We love the stage you are in and love the baby stage. Your smiles, your reaches, your holds, your eye contact, your giggles, turns, noises, everything is great. I don't feel the monotonous drone of motherhood. I enjoy changing your diapers. I am fine to wake up with you in the night because when you fall back asleep in my arms and I lay you down I always walk away with the blessedness of having you in my arms bliss. You bring a joy and focus into our home.

This morning Bobby said, he can go to work when he is exhausted because he feels like he has never seen me so happy and so he will do everything to let me stay at home with you. I thought about it and agreed. You stardreamer, are such a gift. I can only thank God for knowing my heart and how much love you would bring to it and giving me you. Motherhood is a gift I am grateful for everyday because of you. Your Daddy can't believe the way you look up at me when you are nursing. He said he wishes he could experience it. I feel protective it selfishly skittish of food taking away our time. I know that is because it is still our time. When the time comes for your needs to change I will change to give you what you need. By grace, I will learn how to flow in and out of our melding and separation knowing finally the permanence of the love-blood-relationship that can only come from this gift of motherhood. God is miraculous.