Sunday, May 11, 2014

10/20/12 Her Gloriousness

There are many things I want to write about, many posts I’ve written in my head while feeding Cate or in the car.  But those will have to wait, as we are long past due for The Reveling.
Cate.  She is every good thing.  Her voice is by far the sweetest sound in my life, maybe of my life.  I already want a rewind button to be able to go back to the squishy lumpy uncoordinated noodle-neck tiny body of her youth.  How can she already be so very big??  She’s only 4 months old!  Yet there she is, fully into 6 month wear, long and slender as spaghetti, still managing to have plump little cellulite baby thighs.  With every new skill I think we’ll have time to soak in this phase for awhile, but the phase seems to last only hours before it has developed into something further.  There is no pause button with her - it is exhilerating, shocking, frightening, beautiful and truly amazing to watch this little human take shape.  Once again, you don’t fully understand ‘til you’ve walked the path yourself.
People ask me about her personality.  I know her but am challenged to put her into words.  She’s a happy girl.  When she’s slept well (and long enough), she wakes up calm, looking around, sqwaking, and, when she sees you, full of delicious life-changing smiles.  When she hasn’t slept long enough, she whines and cries as if someone is poking her in the back with a needle, but won’t open her eyes to see that she’s back in the world and it’s okay.  She doesn’t like car trips in the dark.  She’s not yet a Mommy or Daddy’s girl, but goes to others with curiosity and an openness to accept them.  Sometimes she’ll get a vibe that says “I’m not really okay with this person”, but for the most part, she’s good to go with the rest of the human race.  
She’s recently taken an interest in our pets.  Reaching out to touch them for the first time (and grab their fur, which they obviously adore).  She’s also exploring our faces with her hands, which WE absolutely do adore.  It feels like her way of saying she’s loves us too, that we are hers, and she can do with us what she will (which of course she can).  
She rolled over for the first time on October 19th.  I couldn’t tell you the last time I was so unequivocally revved up on Life as that afternoon.  She was a wondrous thing to watch, her surprise to find herself in a new position, her keen interest and focus in trying again, her voracity in doing it over and over as she perfected the skill - like getting right back in line for your new favorite roller coaster and familiarizing yourself with the curves.  She seemed both happy with herself and determined.  OH, it was so wild.  Giddy I was!! Unabashedly giddy.  
Watching Brad with her is pure heaven.  When she smiles at him, I’m telling you, the ice caps melt faster.  You can see his soul brighten and his body fill with delight.  His face...well, it’s everything we ever wanted for each other, let’s just say that.   He loves coming home to her, loves changing her diaper, loves the squeals of her finding her voice and her “conversations”.  The number of times I’ve heard “Honey, she’s doing _____ now!!”  It’s so fun to watch him be amazed by her.
As for me, well.... there isn’t one piece that I’m disillusioned over or am not relishing.   3 AM isn’t my favorite time of day, but I’ll take it with gratitude.  There are times when sleep simply must happen or this nearly 44 year old body won’t be able to function anymore, when I’m nauseous from fatigue.  But I’ve never been happier to be sick to my stomach.  I’m loathe to leave her when I go to work just two days a month - how pathetic yet wonderful is that?!  Brad watches her all day which is great for them both, I just...miss them!  I get next to nothing done because when she’s awake I want to interact with her; when she’s asleep I want to watch her; and when she’s eating I want to imprint it in my body and mind and heart, because nursing is my very very favorite thing and it’s going to be gone all too soon.  (Can you BELIEVE my body is sustaining her?  I can’t get over the brilliance and miraculousness of breastfeeding.  I’ve wanted to do it since I can remember, for the wonderment of it, but I couldn’t have imagined the incredulity that comes with knowing this old body that I’ve treated as if it were mine to ruin is responsible for actually giving my child the nutrients to live.  It’s The. Coolest.  (For me, not to knock anyone who has chosen not to or can’t for one reason or another.  No bones about that whatsoever.)  I can’t kiss her enough, cuddle her enough, feel her enough, HAVE her enough.  
She is our sunshine...our joy….our wonder….our completion. 

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