Sometimes, as I nurse at 2 am, or coax out a giggle or two at 10 in the morning, or pace up and down the length of the house trying to calm purple crying at 6 in the evening, I get hit with that surreal, ‘this is my life’ feeling. This is my baby. I hardly remember it, but two months ago, I gave birth to a human being. I don’t feel like one and yet, I am a mom.
Mom. The word itself is surreal.
On Sunday, Isabel was 2 months old.
Sleeping: Her schedule hasn’t changed much since the first few weeks after we brought her home. She still wakes up at 2 or 3 in the morning, and again at 5 or 6. I try to remind myself that this is a good thing, that she’s eating well and therefore growing well, but more and more, I find myself bringing her into our bed so I can feed her without the fear of falling asleep in the rocking chair and dropping her.
(I almost did once. It scared me.)
Eating: Still lots. Every 2-3 hours, except at night, when she does one 4-5 hour stretch.
Pooping: The third of the trifecta of baby activities… We have officially made the switch over to cloth diapers, and I have begun to understand the obsession cloth diapering moms have with the whole thing. But, that deserves a whole blog post of its own, I think.
Growing: Beautifully! I notice the changes in her almost every day. At her two month check up, she was 11.6 lbs and 59 cm long (about 23 inches).
Playing: Oh, she plays! We’ve borrowed a play mat from a friend. Daily, I plop her under a colourful array of balls and hanging toys and can’t help but to stare, mesmerized, as she kicks and wiggles and smiles and laughs up at the colours hanging above her head. She’s discovered her reflection in the little mirror and will stare at herself for a solid 10 minutes.
I’m headed back to school next week. On one hand, I’m excited. On the other hand, I am beyond apprehensive and kind of wish I could take back my tuition money and stay tucked in this life of baby snuggles and domesticity.