Feeble Knees

Friday, March 31, 2006

Six Months Ago

Just like today, it was bright and sunny and warm six months ago on September thirtieth. I couldn't feel the breeze or the warmth of the sun but I could see sun-dappled leaves swaying gently outside the window of the labor room as I waited and waited for Bug to be born.

Oh what a difference six months make.

On October 1st, 2005 I could barely look ahead to the end of our first week. By four weeks, when I was having so much difficulty breasfeeding, six months seemed a ridiculous number of lifetimes away. Each day was a marathon at times, particularly when he was still so refluxy and cranky and wakeful. We took each day at a time. I could not look ahead to the future, particularly not in the dead of a New England winter when we were housebound and spitty and crying all the time. To even allow myself to think of summer sun and breezes and green grass under my toes again would have sent me zooming down the road to straightjackets and happy lovely Zoloft cocktails.

Not to say that I wouldn't do it all again. I would. Asking me if I'd do it again is like asking the marathon winner if he'd do it all again. Of course he would. It was a struggle all the way perhaps, but his eyes were on the prize.

Bug is sleeping through the night. He's happy, and has a beguiling, rakish smile that melts me. In the morning he wakes up and hoots like a little owl. He loves to hear people sing silly tunes. And the sound "Zzzzzt! Zzzzzt! ZzzzzzZZZZZzzt!" makes him break up laughing in glee.

He's six months old tomorrow. It's not a finish line, just a milestone along the way.
Just a milestone, but a personal victory for me.
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