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I dedicate myself to spend time helping our babe learn to sleep and soothe herself. We stay indoors for her to feel secure and comforted in her own bed, surrounded by familiar rooms and sounds. I rock her, sing her lullaby, rub her blanket on her face then say I love you. I cherish these moments together.
She learns to sleep quickly that Mister and I start to enjoy restful sleep after three months of night feedings. I see the difference in all of us, we’re happy, loving, and content with one another.
I spend an afternoon nap looking for clothes to add to my closet and fill an online shopping cart full of sheers and cotton in soft muted nudes and whites. I anticipate their arrival to update my wardrobe and help me feel beautiful in my postpartum body.
There is a day that I see clearly that she needs me and wants me. Not just for food but for comfort as well. That when she is placed in my arms I feel her tighten her tiny arms around my neck, she tilts her head and places it on my shoulder facing out, the deepest sigh escapes her tiny body and the she completely relaxes into me. Her and I spend so much time together, attached by a beautiful entwined ribbon between the two of us, that she yearns for me to know she is safe. I revel in the feeling of being wanted but struggle with always having to feel like I should be near her.
A friend comes to visit and spontaneously her and I are doing a photoshoot together with the cherry blossoms. She spends so much time asleep that she captivated by the pink snow falling down and the world around her. I dream of summer picnics, camping adventures, and exploring the city together.
Later in the week I tuck her into her carrier close to my chest to walk to take her passport photos. Along the way we are admired and smiled at. The carrier makes me feel a dishevelled but with my oversized tortoise shell sunglasses, grey cape thrown over my shoulders, coach handbag on my wrist, and black skinnies to show off my figure I feel and see the admiration people have for me. A new mother who puts herself together.
The weekend comes and with Saturday it is my day and I Implement a no internet/email day. We start the day staring and connecting with each other as well as with Isla. We are present. No need for tag teaming, we do everything together. You wash, I dry. You swaddle her, I’ll put her down. You start the sentence, I’ll finish it. This connection leads us to chasing each other down the hall and tumbling into bed, eager to strip our clothes off. It’s the most sweet interlocking of bodies that sends us into a deep sleep afterwards.
We enjoy hours of conversation. Another latte, more snuggles with Isla, being more aware and present with one another.
We take an afternoon walk in the rain with her in the pram. As we walk along the seawall I take everything in, the way the light is falling across the buildings, the birds dipping in the water, the crowds of families rushing to play together or attend a weekend birthday party. We stop in at the grocers and pick up fresh ingredients to make a dinner for two before heading home.
A warm house welcomes us as our wet footprints leave a trail through the home. We prepare snacks of oven top popcorn drizzled in duck fat, rice crisps and hummus, homemade guacamole paired with fresh baguette.
As the sun starts to shift towards the horizon she takes her afternoon nap and Mister lays down in our large bed to read a novel. I run a bath of lavender and hot water to soak in. As the candle flickers in the corner I realize we haven’t been this calm in a long time. I cannot remember a time seeing him so relaxed with no stress outlining his eyes. I crave more days like this.
We mix the ingredients together and sit before a single candle lit dinner where Isla joins us. The music is turned off and the only sound is us in conversation. As the skyline turns from duck to night she finally calms down and is ready to be put to bed, and we continue our conversation till late in the night of plans to build our networth, his career aspirations, and building on passion.
We awake to Sunday, his day. We relax at home slowly eating breakfast, showering, getting dressed. We spend lingering moments with our babe not rushing her or us to go anywhere or do anything.
I spend the day in between naps soaking up a new novel while he works away in his office. I hear her wake up from her midmorning nap and begin the timer for letting her cry it out. 10. 15. 20. She doesn’t stop and my heart longs for her so I finally pick her up and she instantly calms. I bring her to our bedroom and lay with her on our bed together and she curls her tiny body into into my chest. One hand clutching my shirt the other thrown across her eyes I lay there watching her and listening to her breathing until I know she’s fallen into a deep sleep.
I take her to watch Mister’s soccer game and I feel a sense of pride wash over me. I am that woman, that wife, that mother who brings her babe to cheer him on. Between shifts he runs up to me with sweat running down his face and kisses me hard on the lips, I know he appreciates me being there.
I take her home afterwards to feed and change her before heading back out to celebrate with his teammates. I dress her in her white and grey stripped onesie with her white hat. I throw on my grey cape and large sunglasses before placing her in the crook of my arm. We are a sight to be seen. A stylish mother with a stylish babe, relaxed and smiling as we walk down the street, we bring smiles to everyone who sees us. As we walk into the pub I hear the ohh and awes given to our babe; she brings delight where ever she goes. She sits in his lap looking around and watching everyone. We are proud of what a calm and happy babe we have.
I sing her lullaby and we kiss her goodnight that soon she is a sleeping babe in her crib. He is in his office so I crawl onto his lap and we look over all the photos I’ve taken of her in the past 12 weeks. How much she’s grown! I can’t believe how small she was! Look, her first smile! We exclaim over and over how proud we are.
We call it an early night and crawl into bed together. Skin to skin.
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Oh I love this post Lesley. From your words I can feel how happy and content you are with your life and your family. And I love to see you happy 🙂
I’m sorry, all I saw was popcorn drizzled in duck fat. Oh my God.