on turning one
My dearest Eli,
I am starting to notice that all birthdays bring shock to me. How can you possibly be turning one? It sounds cliché, but wasn’t it yesterday that you were swaddled and sleeping, a tiny little thing curled up in the crook of my elbow, lying on my chest, snuggled next to me with the tiniest little cry there ever was in the whole world?
And now you are a toddler? How could this have happened so fast?
When I found out I was pregnant with you, I couldn’t believe it. I was told it would be very hard to get pregnant, if even possible with Ari, and there I was with a seven month old, and I was miraculously pregnant again. I’ll admit it, I was a little scared. How could I give you what you needed when there was already a baby to be taken care of. But from the moment you were born (actually even when I was in labor with you), this first year, you have been the most delightful, laid back, easy-going child. And you have made it so I can’t imagine life without you and am thankful every day for the gift that was given to me when I had you.
As a baby you have had a gift for napping. Even as a seasoned mother of one, I asked the doctor if it was okay for a newborn to sleep this much. You sometimes sleep through the night, but other times, it will be the middle of the night, and you will be in your crib looking at me like, “I have to share you all day with Ari, let’s have some snuggle time and nurse while everyone else is asleep. Just you and me.” There will be a time when I sleep through the night on a regular basis, and the pain of sleep deprivation will have faded. And even with the lack of sleep fresh in my mind I think fondly of you laying on my chest in the middle of the night in a dark, quiet room curled up into a ball of warmth and love.
While easy-going in nature, you seem to be developing into a bruiser. There is something about hanging around with a two year old all day that has made you a pro at running, climbing and laughing. You climbed your first set of stairs at the age of 9 months and mastered walking at 10 months and running at 11 months! And your laugh is so unique, anyone who hears it comments, “That is the cutest baby laugh I have ever heard!” If Santa Clause were a baby, he would sound like you when he laughed.
There is no way to give your second child the same things you give a first child. I suppose there will always be a part of me watching to make sure you are given all that you need in the world because of that. However, you have been given a built-in playmate and experienced parents. And you have brought our family tremendous joy. You mean the world to us, Eli.
Love,
Mommy
June 1, 2010 at 4:06 pm
*tears* That was the sweetest letter. It makes me so sad I haven’t been able to delight and experience his first year to the same extent I was able to observe Ari’s, and frankly hate that I’ve yet to meet either gorgeous boy in real life! When are you coming to CA?!?