Letters to Emmy : Three Months

February 12 through March 12, 2014

Dear Emmy,

I'm writing this on the last day of my maternity leave - I go back to work Monday. Can you give me just a minute while I go in a corner and sob? How are you THREE MONTHS OLD, GURL?  Life is passing too quickly. Everything is going by too damn fast. (Melodramatic much?) I already feel like I wasted the last three months, even though I spent minutes and hours and days and weeks holding you and breathing in your essence. But turning you over to someone else on Monday is going to be hard. Harder even than leaving your sister, because she was staying at home with family when I worked. You're going to a really great, small, in-home center (because all our relatives are jerks with real jobs now) but it is terrifying to leave you with people who don't love you as much as I do. I didn't have to leave Carys with a non-relative until she started at preschool when she was 18 months old. HOW WILL I DO THIS? I'm freaking out just thinking about it now. You're still so tiny (okay, maybe not on the charts, but to me you are!). Is it too late to move to Norway or somewhere with 10 year long maternity leave?

You've changed so much between two and three months and have lost so much of that newborn-ness. You're gaining control of your movements, have discovered your hands, and can grab toys hanging from your playmat. The first time you did that, you couldn't stop smiling. You've started talking to us with soft baby coos and gurgles and just look positively delighted to be a part of the conversation.

Your hair disappeared rapidly, as I feared/expected, but I thiiiiiiiiink it might be starting to grow back. Maybe. It's still so fuzzy and soft, and you still have the dark fringe around the bottom and....that's about it. But it's okay, the baldness only serves to accentuate your giant blue eyes and round head and chipmunk cheeks. And seriously, that is one adorable round head. And those dimples. I cannot get enough of those dimples.

You're growing out of all of your 0-3 clothes (and maybe I'm still shoving you in a few of them because I REFUSE TO LET GO) and into the 3-6 month clothes. You're equally giant and tiny. Every time I put you in a 3-6 month sleeper and it's too big still, I'm a little relieved, I'm not going to lie. I'm looking forward to knowing toddler and little kid Emmeline (not so much tween Emmeline) but I am okay with it taking forever to get there, especially if you're to be my last little baby.

You strongly dislike tummy time and being woken up and the first few minutes in your car seat and middle of the night diaper changes. You love baths and your changing table and your playmat and the mobile above your swing. You love one finger in your mouth and your Wubbanub paci. You love being held (by anyone, you don't care who) and sleeping in the crook of my arm. You love both your sister and dad and will give them quick smiles and track their movements.

I sometimes feel guilty about not getting as much one-on-one time with you as I had with Carys, but I do one thing with you that I didn't with her that evens it out a bit - I bedshare with you. I put you in your little bed next to mine when you go to sleep around 8:30 (as I did with her) but after I nurse you the first time, I usually just keep you in bed with me (following all safe sleeping practices, obviously, like keeping all pillows and blankets away from your face, and I have a Snuza on you at all times). It was a long time before I mastered side-lying nursing with Carys (like she was probably 6 or 9 months old) and by the time we did, she was already sleeping in her crib. With you, I nurse you and then we both go back to sleep, blissfully in each other's arms (literally - you tuck one arm into my underarm and usually have the other flung against my chest). It makes me feel a little better that we have these sleepy nighttime cuddle sessions to help even things out. And I HATE waking up in the morning and having to move you. I would literally lie in bed all day long with you like that if I could. There's nothing better in the world right now.

My sweet, chill, go-with-the-flow Emmy. My sweet chubby baby with dimpled cheeks and roly-poly thighs. I love you so much.

Love,
Mama