Something odd happens with time after you have a baby: it slows to a crawl while simultaneously speeding past. I can hardly remember back to this hot summer when Quin surprised us two weeks early—my first naturally early baby, and my smallest. (But only by 2 ounces.)
The summer dragged, with Rob gone for a few weeks off-and-on and hot days with a fresh, squishy baby. Slow, hot, heavy days. That feel like YEARS ago now.
That squishy baby is now a big-eyed, wide-thighed wiggler and roller. She has a smile that lights up her whole body and when she is happy, she is flappy. Arms and legs waving with wild abandon. If you’re holding her and she gets excited, she is likely to leap from your lap.
Leave her in the floor and you will find her 10 feet away when you turn around. She is probably just days from crawling, but will roll and wiggle her way toward anything interesting, whether it’s the fireplace (eeeek!) or a brightly colored toy. Put anything near her and grabbing is an immediate reaction. Toys. Hair. Your nose. A dirty diaper.
Sleeping is what’s making the fast time slow now. After sleeping fully through the night for the very first time (like 12-hours sleeping through the night), she did a total reverse and now ONLY wants to sleep in my arms. She falls asleep, then wakes up screaming, then falls back asleep within seconds of my holding her. It’s exhausting. I didn’t shower for like three days.
And I know, I KNOW, all you sleep-training people are telling me to just let her cry already, but I’m not on that boat. So allow me my complaint, knowing that I’m choosing not to go down that path. Especially when I let her cry for a bit and she somehow gets her head stuck under the crib bumper. (Yes, I know that now babies aren’t supposed to have bumpers.) Then I remove the bumpers and she rolls and whacks her head into the crib rails. Oh, man. The sleep, you guys. The sleep.
But those moments of holding a sleepy baby, even if I haven’t showered in two days and badly need to brush my teeth? PRECIOUS. Irreplaceable. And moving by at a rapid pace. I look at Cooper and realize that in a year’s time, that will be Quin. And one year ago? Cooper was Quin. INSANITY.
I realized something recently, as we were going through the loss of Lynn, Rob’s sweet mom. Rob and I don’t camp strongly in one family-planning camp or another. We have always done what seems like the right choice, at the time, for our family. Quin was a surprise. Not an accident, but a surprise. (Not a TOTAL surprise, but surprise enough.) If we had been planning intentionally, I would not have planned to have a baby so soon, although I remember right after Cooper was born knowing I wanted more. Compared to how I felt after both of my first two (as in: NO MORE KIDS OR WE ARE ADOPTING, THE END), that says something. But here is the fact that struck me:
If we had planned Quin the way often we plan things, she would not have met Lynn. They would not have had those precious moments talking in bed that I will always remember, even if Quinlyn doesn’t. Lynn would not have helped when Rob and I were stuck between two baby girl names. I’m so very thankful for her arrival at just the right time.
(*Note: I am NOT advocating any kind of birth planning or non-planning. I’m simply telling you that I’m glad that we didn’t plan this time and that we were happily surprised when we were.)
I’ll leave you with this video from a few months ago that got me weepy and reminded me how precious the days are. This? Is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.