Dear Emma,
We owe each other a few apologies.
For the last week, for the first time since bringing you home, you've been sick.
I admit that there have been moments when I have not been as patient as I strive to be.
I've not been as creative in our play. I've sighed and know you've heard me.
But, in fairness, you've been kind of, well.... an asshole. (Sorry! There I go again!)
"Give me patience when little hands tug at me with ceaseless, small demands."
So, you're 10 months old.
Honest, you are SO chilled. (Well, not today, but like, in general.)
You were born 6 weeks early. We were confronted with the possibility of you being born 10 weeks early!
We have done the head work.
We know how blessed we are that your medical needs have been so insignificant.
We are in awe of your strong core and your remarkable milestone achievements.
You are easy.
Baby Led Weaning? We do it. With ease.
You have never shown the slightest hint of a food allergy. You try anything you're offered and so it's a relaxed affair.
Natural and Attachment Parenting? With you? Piece of cake!
You have been predictable. Independent. Always pleasant and so you're free range without us feeling like casualties of your pace.
You tire at the same time each day and night.
You want your supper before your bath each evening.
Tub time is fun time! You're in AND out with giggles every day.
After your bath and evening grooming session you joyfully climb from your dad's arms onto my chest, where you feed while I sing your song. Then you drift off.
There is no chaos. (Let it be noted that actual night sleeping is not your steam. But that isn't really the point here, nor does it sell what I'm telling you.)
The routine has been set by you, and is super parent friendly!
You are the baby that convinces parents to have more babies!
And so, Emma Rose Ferris Strydom, forgive me for thinking that the baby was broken this week.
I mean. I literally took you back to the ER one time more than necessary for them to check you for glitches. You were not my happy baby, and 3 days into it all I was ready to get my regular Em back.
"Give me gentle words and smiling eyes, to keep my lips from hasty, sharp replies."
You have viral pneumonia.
A cold you had over 2 weeks ago has taken hold of your little right lung and with it, your predictability.
It is such a typical parent thing to say, but "it is so hard to see your child sick."
It's on the list of overly-parenty-things...
Like cleaning a cheek with a spitty thumb.
Or giving your baby the largest side swept comb over hairstyle, to rival the royals of Windsor, after their bath.
Certain things are just parenting standard.
Caring for a sick child wrenches the gut of the best of us!
We nebulize you 4 times daily.
Tomorrow we go for a follow up at the hospital to see how you've responded.
I think we're coming out the other end now, 6 days later.
"Let not fatigue, confusion or noise obscure my vision of life's fleeting joys"
What this time has taught me:
I aim to be a gentle parent.
I profess to allow you to lead and I promise to meet you where you are.
This is easy to say, when you're parenting the proverbial "good" child.
The commitment to this free-range, kind approach is truly tested when your child is at their raging "worst".
Up until a week ago, I knew the mother that I was to my NICU baby.
To my newborn.
To my crawler and explorer.
This week has taught me who I need to be for my sad and sick baby.
My Velcro Baby.
My bored and tired and cranky baby.
It's been tough and I have struggled, but I am proud to say that I am back.
Knowing the new things I now know and a tiny bit more about the challenges of parenting, I am reaffirming my commitment to the gentle life.
Cry on my chest baby girl.
Wipe your nose on my chin.
Pull my hair through the night to remind yourself that I'm still holding you.
Just when I think I have nothing more to give, I do.
I'm not going anywhere.
My arms have major staying power.
I have learnt to actually enjoy my coffee cold.
My breasts were bought from a skilled surgeon. (You were always going to know this)
I thought I had gotten them for me. And, of course, for flawless fitting of halter style anythings. I was wrong. My ego. It does not live here anymore.
They are literally yours to pummel and bite and drag down to my ankles.
I used to spend my private #2 toilet time relaxing and reading online articles...
Sit on my lap boo!
I have got you! I love you!
"So when in years to come my house is still, beautiful memories it's rooms may fill"
I hope you feel better soon my darling.
I'm sorry for the growing pains as we both figure out our ever-changing selves.
Be kind to me.
All my love,
Mommy Xx
Commenti