October 17, 2015
Memory is a peculiar phenomenon. My earliest recollection is of my mother, pregnant with my sibling, explaining the arrival of my baby brother. It’s a faint image, akin to viewing the world through murky water. I was just 3 years old at the time. A few months later, my first vivid memory is of my brother returning home from the hospital. I don’t recall his appearance or the sensation of cradling him, but I distinctly remember my outfit—a blue plaid dress adorned with train buttons—and the thrill of being the first to hold him, even before the neighborhood kids.
You’re so tiny and new, my sweet little one, and it’s a curious thought that you won’t remember these precious moments we share. Meanwhile, these days will remain etched in my mind, much like a tattoo, enduring throughout my life. The immediate bond we formed, the seamless way we connected, and the beautiful (yet sometimes challenging) interdependence of nurturing are experiences I will carry forever.
Now that you are 4 months old, you are evolving into your own unique self each day. Amid the myriad changes and milestones of recent months, I’ve also recognized some bittersweet “lasts.” This realization brings a hint of anxiety—not from my eagerness to watch you flourish, but from the fear of losing some of my favorite memories. How will I ever convey these moments to you?
I recall how, almost from birth, you would make a little “oh” sound after a series of sneezes, and later, after each single sneeze. We would rush to capture it on video, but we were never quite quick enough. It reminds me of lyrics from my youth, sung in the shower during pregnancy: “Every time she sneezes, I believe it’s love.”
I remember how you would melt into the bath with your father in those early weeks, feeling like a joyous reunion. The way you would smile at me while feeding, often losing your latch, but neither of us cared. There was that one time you coped with a swift letdown by squeezing my breast and drinking the milk from your tiny fist instead. You’ve even flipped me the bird more times than I can count during feeding sessions!
I think of how you looked in that cradle—the same one that once held your father and his brothers decades before. We spent countless hours pacing the floor, sometimes collapsing onto it, before finally bringing you into our bed. Your eyes while you slept resembled two perfect crescent moons framed by lashes. I can still feel the imprint of your ear on my skin after you dozed off in my arms.
I cherish the day you learned to embrace diaper changes, all it took was a spirited rendition of Billy Joel’s “The Longest Time.” You now smile at me in anticipation of the song as I place you on the changing table. I’ll never forget how your face lit up when you first noticed your favorite toy, or the excitement you showed when chattering about my painting of your dad and the cat—even right after a crying spell.
You experience every feeling with your entire being, expressing it without any hint of self-consciousness. How you clasp your hands near your face when excited, how you beam at strangers, and the joy you exude upon waking and seeing our faces. You’re growing so strong, and while I’m thrilled for the future, it’s a little terrifying to think about the day you won’t need me to hold you close anymore.
These moments, these fleeting days, don’t fit into the conventional boxes of any baby journal. They aren’t mere milestones or checkmarks on a page. However, one day, as we both grow older, I hope to preserve these memories so I can share them with you.
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Summary
This reflection on early motherhood captures the essence of fleeting moments that may not fit conventional milestones but hold profound significance. A mother shares her treasured memories of her infant, emphasizing the bond formed and the bittersweet nature of growth.
Keyphrase: Cherished Memories of Infancy
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