When the baby was brand new, I often complained, “I can never put her down,” and “She’ll never sleep unless she’s held.” My arms ached from baby holding and I’m convinced I undid all my rehab following wrist surgery a few years ago. But looking back, what a lovely ache it was to have, the one acquired from holding your baby.
I think my biggest regret from new motherhood is always trying to get the baby to sleep…in places other than in my arms. I was so caught up in the premature nonsense of establishing routines and creating good habits that I overlooked the simplicity of the situation and made myself crazy in the process. Thank you, baby experts of the world, for marketing your madness to my sleep-deprived delirium.
Now, the baby sleeps 11-12 hours at night, in her crib. I’m away from her all day, and if I have to work late, I might go a day without holding her at all. So funny how one extreme leads directly to another.
Lately I’ve been having some momma pangs of needing more time with her. So when she fell asleep in my arms on Friday, for the first time in weeks, I sat there with her just soaking it in.
The juxtaposition of the current situation with what I faced eight months ago is ironic, no doubt, and yet another lesson in finding joy in the present.
Almost eight months: