I once blogged about my son’s birth story, which you can read about here. And, while my daughter’s birth story was nowhere near as traumatic as her older brother’s, I would be remiss if I didn’t devote a little blog space to Lil’ Miss.
E graced us with her presence in fantastically quick time – a quick 3 hours after admission to the hospital (about 6 hours after I started suspecting I was having contractions), she decided it was time to be born. I had prayer warriors praying throughout the world that I would go into labor naturally, instead of being induced for gestational hypertension, and in answered prayer fashion, E was born a mere 4 hours before the date the medical team planned to induce.
It’s now been a couple of months, and I feel as though I am emerging from under the rock of adjustment. But, I will say I have thoroughly enjoyed that adjustment phase, because there are a few memories to cherish from that time where I didn’t fully engage with the world, and spent a more insulated time with my new “family of 4.”
Before E was born, I never understood when people would tell me, “Don’t blink/breathe/look away,” or, “Time goes by so fast, cherish these days.” I would typically thank them for their advice, and then quip, “I feel like these days are dragging on – crawling by, in fact. Probably because I’m with M all the time.”
Since E’s birth, I now understand what those well-meaning people once advised. Because time is going by too fast. I feel like I missed the last couple months of both E and M’s lives, even though they are both my constant sidekicks now.
So, what has brought me so much joy, and what have I been able to cherish?
I cherish the way M looks at his little sister, and seems to automatically take ownership over, “This is my little sister!” I can’t begin to describe what a puffed out, proud chest looks on a preschooler; suffice it to say, it is absolutely adorable.
I cherish how quickly E has learned to track her brother and the dogs, going so far as to start rolling onto her side at a young age. She was only a month old when she started crying if her brother walked out of her sight, and that behavior continues over a month later.
I cherish the toothless grins that meet my smile. I had forgotten how adorable toothless grins look, especially as babies stare down at you from being held aloft like an airplane.
I cherish the breathless excitement, with the arms rotating like helicopter propellers, and the feet kicking like a bucking horse. Then, the squeal that follows, as the excitement bubbles over, spilling out those first vocalizations. And, the ensuing look of wonder, curiosity, and confusion on E’s face when she realizes that noise came from somewhere within.
I cherish, and am astounded by, how alert E has become, and the way she is already learning to make her desires known. I have recently begun referring to myself simply as, “Legs,” because aside from being her meal ticket, I am also being used as her legs. She very subtly lets me know, with a flick of her eyes or a slight tilt of her head, where she wants me to take her; if I don’t respond quickly enough, or play dumb entirely, she will begin to wail. If I respond with appropriate speed to her request, I am completely amazed at how quickly she lights up and remains content.
Lastly, I am able to cherish the small looks of love only a baby sister can throw to her big brother, and looks of love only a baby girl can throw to her daddy. She already absolutely adores the two males in her life. She shares such enthusiasm for the two of them, and I suspect the older and more mobile she gets, the more she will fight to ensure she is the center of their universes.
I don’t want to leave this rock of adjustment. But, I am excited to be able to see how our family continues to grow, change, and thrive as we add Lil’ Miss E to our adventures.