So I cried a little bit today. My baby boy, my little baby boy is now sleeping by himself. Going to sleep by himself, without my nursing and rocking and shushing.
I hear all you proponents of this hollering your congratulations and say thank yous, yes I do. I hear you very well. Ah, but how bittersweet it is, to feel the first pull from Mother towards independence. I remember my own affirmations to myself, how I will be a strong proponent of independence ion his terms, when he feels ready, but let me tell you, dear readers, how bittersweet it is.
To see your child choose and go easily towards being able to do himself what you once did for him- it makes me feel lonely in a tender way, the way I felt after I gave birth and realized that my body was empty of this life I had nurtured almost without my willing it to do so. A gentle emptiness. Can emptiness feel full?
He has for the past two days been able to be laid down in his co-sleeper (even that is not far from Mommy's arms...) and snuggle into blankets and teddy bears and go to sleep. Just that easy.
After nights of torture, getting up every half hour (teething is a bitch, aye say true.) and being sleep deprived, shouldn't I be ecstatic that this enables Mommy to sleep better? To do more in the same amount of time? I should. I am. But in a hollow way.
Also, to emphasize the way my little boy is galloping towards being a big boy, he pulled himself up to a standing position today, several times. I cried a little bit then, when I thought of how little he is and how not little...
How time hurries! How he hurries with it! How when he was born I thought to myself, Oh how sweet it will be when I have three hours to myself when he goes off to pre-school! I will write, and do all sorts of things...
I lamented every hour I spent on the couch, trapped, strapped to this baby because of nursing. I stared at every little object on the floor, every item out of place that I KNEW I could clean up and do so happily!!! Had I ever complained about cleaning? Had I ever lamented going ot work? What little I knew!
Now that I have the luxury of eating breakfast and showering, and going to the bathroom whenever I want, I have lost the teeny baby that never wanted to be put down. Just the way I looked back at myself before Tristan, now I look back at me, when Tristan was two months old, and laugh. I remember thinking "when he is older, and does not want to nurse because he is too busy with the wide world, then- then... then..." It was always "then" and it is still.
Are we ever able to watch the minutiae of time as it happens, or must we always stare ahead and behind, anxious for, sorry for, what is not?
Oh ye mothers gather ye rosebuds while ye may...May is past, June is coming to it's heat, and the summer ripens towards it's full weight. My child is growing, and the more I realize it the more I feel as if I wasn't paying attention. I hope I will learn this lesson fully, so that in a few years' time, when I have another baby, I will not hurry on only to regret the rush.
Maybe I have to be a grandma to really learn it. But I won't look for that too hard. I'll take my time. I promise.
