Counting Down

When you first get pregnant you start counting. Counting how many weeks pregnant you are. We have a picture for every week. From week 5 to week 38.

Every one tells you to start banking your sleep. Which doesn’t work, by the way. Try telling a woman in her third trimester to enjoy her sleep, she may hit you.

The other thing they tell you is that you need to savor these early days, really remember them, record them, because they fly by.

But then, when the baby is born, you  start counting again. You count dirty diapers, hours between naps, hours between feedings, days between showers.

You count how much he weighs, how long he is and how long a baby can possibly cry for (3 hours).

Eventually, I started counting away the days. Days until I had to go back to work, days until he might start to grow out of his colic. Days until Ben might start hitting milestones, sitting up, rolling over, babbling.

Then I started secretly wishing.

Wishing for him to just be a little bit older. Because, I thought, it will get easier. I will feel better, he will be able to communicate more and maybe stop peeing on me. I will feel more confident in being his mama and everything will just be a bit easier.

I think a lot of parents feel that way. Those first few weeks or months, especially with your first baby, are a whopper. You just don’t know what is about to happen and are walking right into the fire.

And then, without warning, I stopped counting. Because all of sudden Ben started to grow so fast. He was crawling, teething, standing on his own, laughing, babbling, communicating with us, and I finally understood what people meant when they said it goes so fast. We are still so early in this journey to raise our little peanut, but already I know time is moving so quickly. Everyday he learns something new, whether it is learning to feed himself or discovering another thing in our house he should definitely not be playing with.

So I recently pledged that I will stop counting away the days, hours and minutes and simply sit back and savor the silly, smart, wildly energetic, sweet, little boy that is growing faster than I ever thought possible. He has so much more growing to do and so does his mama.

The 38 weeks pregnant photo realllly captures how I was feeling. Ben was born 6 days later.

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