flourishing

You are growing.

Now 9 pounds, you feel weighty in my arms. I cannot remember thinking that before, even now nearly 4 weeks ago, when you first rested in my arms and I thought I do not know how to do this because I was high on a lack of sleep, physical exhaustion and drugs, shaking violently from the epidurals and spinal blocks, and because I had never willingly held a baby - let alone a newborn baby - before. The last time I had ever "held" a baby (if having something placed on my knees) counts, was maybe 10 years earlier.

Last week, you were able to sleep in your Moses basket. Now you sleep, but wake frequently because you are more violent with your arm movements, more prone to hitting your hands on its sides. You sleep in your cotbed now, snugly in your Grobag rather than tucked under a small fleece blanket.

Time passes slowly, one day at a time, and yet the weeks are flying by. Four weeks tomorrow. You are no longer newborn, you are baby. You are still so tiny, and yet, last night, even with your smaller disposable nappy, rather than your usual big-bum reusable, we had to cut the feet out of your newborn babygrow. Cutoffs? Not so trendy.

Today, as we are staying in, you are wearing your white softsoftsoft babygrow. The first thing you ever wore. We'd taken it to the hospital for you because it is so softsoftsoft. It was enormous, so comical. Today, it is still a little large, but you do not look so lost within it.

One day soon I will be packing your newborn items away - keeping the special ones, throwing out those which I have cutoff, sending others to charity shops. You will be wearing your 0-3 months clothing.

On the plus side, I will have an excuse to shop.