My Baby is Growing Up

It has been an emotional few weeks.  Something about my baby turning one this week has my emotions in overdrive.  While I am thrilled beyond belief that LB is growing and blossoming into such an adorable and energetic little boy, a part of me is also a bit sad that he’s no longer the tiny, cuddly bundle that I brought home from the hospital not so long ago.  Like all parents will attest, babies grow into little boys far too quickly.  You blink and that cooing little cherub swaddled in a receiving blanket is now running through your kitchen wielding a light saber and rabble-rousing with the dog.  It doesn’t seem possible that it can happen so fast, but it does.


Shortly after LB was born, we learned that he had MCADD and maybe this is playing into my emotions over his first birthday, too.  As we were educated on his condition and the newborn screening system that had detected it and saved his life, I went through a period of time where I was consumed with gratitude.  In all honesty, I have yet to shake that overwhelming sense of thanks.  While every child is a joy and a blessing beyond words, LB truly gave us an extra reason to know that we had been blessed.  Every ounce of food that enters his body is a blessing and a source of joy because I know how essential it is to sustain his fragile metabolism and to keep him healthy.  Every single day that we have him is a blessing and a source of joy because he could so easily have been taken from us if not for that simple heel stick in the hospital that alerted us to his health condition.  It’s almost as if every milestone that he reaches is one more victory over his disorder and one more step forward in a journey that is still sometimes pretty scary... It definitely feels like I’m hyper-conscious of everything with LB because the alternative is always present in the back of my mind – we could have lost him – and that alternative would be utterly unbearable. 


With his older brother, I certainly don’t remember this milestone being so difficult.  Maybe this is because when our oldest son turned one, we were certain that we wanted to have more children and that, more than likely, there would be more first birthdays to celebrate.  With LB, we don’t have that certainty.  We might have another child, but we might not.  Maybe this will be the last time we celebrate a first birthday and that possibility has me clinging all the more tightly to every moment leading up to his big day.  I imagine this is also what has me clinging so tightly to all of his milestones to date and simultaneously cherishing and mourning and celebrating each one. 


I read something this week that helped me put words to all this conflict occurring in my mommy brain.  It’s been awhile since I dog-eared the page of a book because the prose struck a chord so close to my heart, but I definitely (digitally) dog-eared this passage in The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver:


…I took one deep breath for every step they took away from me.  That’s how it is with the firstborn, no matter what kind of mother you are – rich, poor, frazzled half to death or sweetly content.  A first child is your own best foot forward, and how you do cheer those little feet as they strike out.  You examine every turn of flesh for precocity, and crow it to the world.


But the last one: the baby who trails her scent like a flag of surrender through your life when there will be no coming after – oh that’s love by a different name.  She is the babe you hold in your arms for an hour after she’s gone to sleep.  If you put her down in the crib, she might wake up changed and fly away.  So instead you rock by the window, drinking the light from her skin, breathing her exhaled dreams.  Your heart bays to the double crescent moons of closed lashes on her cheeks.  She’s the one you can’t put down.


He’s my baby and as much as I want him to grow and thrive like his older brother, I also want him to just be my baby for as long as possible.  I don’t want him to grow up quite so fast as his older brother did.  My husband  keeps reminding me that even though he’s going to grow up, he’ll still always be my baby – just like his sister is the baby of his family and I’m the baby of my family.  That provides some measure of comfort and I’m hoping it will be enough to let me concentrate on the celebrating more than the moping every time I’m confronted with another milestone that reminds me that my baby is growing up so fast.  I definitely want to celebrate many more birthdays with him and I’m thankful that we can…let’s just not have those birthdays come too quickly.  I still want to snuggle my baby for a few more days.