He DID IT!

It’s official. My baby has gone wireless. I have been holding him and pacing circles around the house just because I can. It’s so wonderful to be able to pick up the phone without dragging luggage behind, or just get up to get myself a drink without buckling him in to something. I even went to the mall yesterday, just the two of us, and it was actually fun. I just had him in his sling and then carried the diaper bag and I felt so free and easy. We went to the doctor again today to get him checked out and see if he could maintain doing it all on his own, and she took one look at him and decided to not even bother with the equipment because he looked so good.

I pick Bear up from the airport in a couple of hours and it really couldn’t come too soon. In the past two weeks I’ve really only had about two hours where I wasn’t on baby duty. It’s wonderful and so deeply draining. I’ve gotten to a point where I’m so exhausted that I’m ridiculously moody about everything. Our computer was in the shop a couple weeks ago and it’s already acting back up, so of course I threw a weepy fit. Then I tried to spend a little time working on my satin quilt, and the sewing machine wasn’t cooperating, so I again started whimpering and had to go lay down for awhile. The silliest things just seem so insurmountable right now. Bear will be home for the long weekend, and I might actually get to sleep through the night a couple of times. I’m sure that will help restore me to sanity.

Overall, the first half of my experiment with single motherhood has been so much easier than I thought. He’s such a sweet little cooperative baby. His time in the NICU definitely set him up for success at home, and every day he manages to sleep when he’s supposed to I want to call those nurses and sing their praises again.

Atticus and I already have a special relationship that is making this time together so sweet. When we first met each other we’d both gone through a harrowing experience we barely made it out of, we were both on heavy medication and fighting for our lives, and I remember visiting him in the NICU. He wrapped his teeny little hand around my pinkie finger and I was so shocked at the strength he had when he appeared so frail. We were in it together then, fighting to recover for each other.

It still feels that way. Our days are full of little miracles that make me wonder just what his little spirit is aware of. I’ll be at the end of my resources after a long day, my dinner will be getting cold in the microwave and he’ll be fighting off sleep, and I’ll say to him, “Baby, close your eyes. I need you to sleep now.” And then he will. Or I’ll set him in his swing and tell him that I need just fifteen minutes of internet time to interact with the outside world, and it’s like he has an internal timer. He’ll stare around the room for almost exactly 15 minutes and then start fussing wildly, ready for another snuggle session. And when I’m consumed with my frustration and worry, he’ll do something that seems so miraculous it renews me whole. He’s already figuring out how to hold the pacifier in his mouth using his hands, he’s starting to grip the bottle when I feed him, and he’s already rolled from his front to his back a few times.

Then, this morning I got up while he was still sleeping and took advantage of the opportunity to go to the bathroom without rushing. When I got back I popped my head over the side of the cosleeper to check on him, and just then he opened his eyes, looked right at me, and shot me the cutest little grin. Suddenly it doesn’t matter if I haven’t made it out of my spit-up stained pj’s in a week. It doesn’t matter if I don’t get to eat anything until 4, or that I spent the whole day cleaning up the poop of one little guy and three fuzzy beasts. I’m stuttering along as best I can and my baby is happy. That’s good enough.