The World Gets Bigger Every Day

Dear David,


Sorry, love, I know this entry is way overdue. Things have been busy.
I've got good news though! You rolled over today. For the first time. From your tummy to your back. It was very exciting. Your grandparents have also decided on a set of nicknames for you to call them by, if you'll cooperate: Grandma will be Loli, and Grandpa will be Pop.
... Hey, it's a lot better than your grandmother wanting to be referred to as "Big Granny". SMH.
You also just tried to eat the side of my face. I should start calling you Little Zombie instead of Little Dude. LOL.
Sadly, I don't have that much to say today. I have a lot to do; I need to take a shower, run to the store, clean up the house a little after yesterday's baby shower for your cousin Jessica, her husband Will, and their new baby boy Dominic who's going to be born sometime in December. You need a bath too, mister. :)


Love, Mommy.

Until You Fall Asleep

Dear David,

Another woman's baby died yesterday. He was just a month older than you are now (you're two months old today) and he was almost as beautiful as you are. His babysitter let him take a nap on his tummy, and he never woke up.

What do you say to something like that? What do you do in that sort of situation? I can't stand the thought.

Now I've decided that you're not leaving my sight until you're well into your thirties, and possibly married with your own children. I'm screwed, aren't I?

I just want you to be happy, healthy, and safe. This is why only Grandma and Gangi watch you right now; I don't trust anyone else yet! You're too important to me, and I love you too much. I worked too hard to get you here to lose you now. I survived hyperemesis and early back labor and a third degree tear with minor hemorrhaging to bring you into this world, and I'll be damned if anything bad happens to you. I left your father, who was going down a road that could have made it dangerous for you and me to stay with him, so that you would be able to grow up in a good, stable, healthy environment, away from dangers and strangers and drugs and lying.

David, you are the best part of my life. I never thought you would exist, and now here you are. And the thought of something or someone, anything or anyone, taking you away from me, practically ripping you out of  my arms - because you know I would never let you go - just tears me up inside.

And you're too little to know any of this. To you, I'm just the person who feeds you. The person who wipes your butt and puts a clean diaper on you. The person who changes your clothes when they get wet or dirty. The person who rocks you when you're not feeling well. The person who seems to be your favorite thing to sleep on. Like right now. You sleep so soundly, with your face pressed against my shoulder, your fists clenched and one arm wrapped tightly around mine.

To think that your precious little body could one day just not be here for me to hug or hold anymore...

It's worse than the worst thought imaginable. So awful that my mind cannot even comprehend it. Even my normally inventive imagination cannot come up with anything. Your death is an impossibility, in my eyes. Because I am your mother, and I refuse to let you be anything short of safe and happy and perfect, as long as I am alive.

Love, Mommy.

Life's a Safari - So Far, Anyway

Dear David,

You startle so much in your sleep, sweet boy. I wonder why. I wonder what it is going on behind those drooped lids that makes you jerk and scowl, even in the deepest of sleeps. I want to make it go away, and to never come back to you again. But that's just one of those mother's wishes for her child... Something that will never come true, given the intangible nature of dreams. Dreamcatchers are pretty and all, but if nightmares were something that could be easily captured before sinking into an innocent mind then I would probably have had more frequent good nights of sleep myself.

Still. It makes me wonder - to what lengths would I go to make whatever you wanted become a reality?

Quick answer: I don't know.

I'm sorry, Monster, but I have to leave you with the quick answer for now; a better answer would probably take much more thought and several more years of getting used to this whole parenting thing.

I realized tonight, looking down at you in the bathtub, just how big you're getting. You're going to be one tall boy, I can already tell. I'm not sure how "tall" you are right the moment, but I'd guess around 23 or 24 inches - you were 19 inches when you were born. Growing like a sprout, that's for sure.

No matter how small or big you are, though, it seems you're already more mature than I am. When I get upset and frustrated with you, you usually ignore me. Tonight though, I was bitching and getting mad, and you just stared up at me and smiled. Seeing those lips curl and widen stopped me mid-sentence, and I couldn't help but smile right back down at you.

See? Sometimes Mommy needs a paci too. Just not like the ones you're used to.

You just startled at another yawn. I hope this letter makes sense, since exhaustion seems to be getting the better of me. Bedtime after I wrap this up, and it'll be just you and me, warm and cozy and drowning in each other's sweet scents.

Here's to sweeter dreams.

Love, Mommy.

Bad Day

Dear David,


It's been something of a bad day all around. I don't know if you have gas or hiccups or if you're sleepy or bored, but you have been one serious pain in my butt today!
Right now, though, we're in our room, at something of a stalemate. You're laying next to me on my bed, nice and warm under a receiving blanket and wearing that striped robot onesie I love on you so much, and just...
Staring at me. Smiling at me. Cooing and talking at me.
You seem to be enjoying looking around right now. Which is good, because at least it means you're happy and not screaming at me. I've wanted to cry a couple times this afternoon because you seemed to be so unhappy, and I'm so bad at deciphering your cries. For me, it's just impossible. I can tell the difference between a cry because you need something and a cry because you're in pain, but that's about it. If there was a Baby Cries 101, I'd be failing miserably.
In two days, you'll be two months old. Your eyes are still blue. You've gained so much weight and bulk to your body... It astounds me every single day that you're the same teeny thing I delivered that night.
It's the Teen Mom finale tonight. We're watching it right now. Or rather, I'm watching it. You're watching me. And all I can sit here and think is that Farrah's insane if she can leave her daughter behind and move to Florida to relive her teen years. Someone would have to pry you from my cold, dead fingers. LOL
It's weird, being your mother. Sometimes I look at you and I feel so overwhelmed. Sometimes I feel frustrated. Sometimes I start to cry just by looking at the creases on your wrist, or your nose that's just like mine. It's like we're the same person still; my mood now plays off your mood. When you're mad, I'm mad. When you're upset, I'm upset. When you smile, I smile. Books and doctors will say that babies smile to mimic their mothers. I disagree. It's as though you always smiled to make me smile.
And I love you for it.
Here's to hoping tomorrow's a better day.


Love, Mommy.