Dear Jack, I'm not entirely certain if I'll keep up with this blog much longer -- really, it's hard to keep up with anything these days, especially something that takes away from my time with you -- but since I'm back here for the moment, let's have a little chat, mama and you.
The saddest day of my life was when you were admitted to the NICU -- because it was so scary, and you cried so hard, and you looked so small on that great big hospital bed -- but coming in a close second was last Monday, the day I left you and went back to work.
I left you in very loving and capable hands, with your grandma who absolutely adores you -- but still, I left you, and it just about broke my heart. I'm not sure how many tissues I went through on the drive downtown, but it was a lot. You see, I knew ahead of time that it was going to be hard. But then you were born, and it became impossible to imagine a time when we wouldn't be together.
And we were together non-stop in the first twelve weeks. I can count on one hand the number of times I went anywhere without you, and it was never for more than three hours. Sometimes I thought I really needed a break, that I had to drive somewhere just to hear myself think... and then, 45-minutes later, I'd be hurrying back from Home Depot or Chipotle because I missed you so much. (Also, because Daddy called wondering when I would arrive).
Not to harp on and on about it, but you really were a tough baby in the beginning. You were hungry and gassy, and that made you angry and sad, and it was just so much hard, hard work all the time. But you needed me very desperately, and I started seeing these amazing glimpses of the happy, funny little boy you're already becoming... and glimpses like that, they can really make one fall desperately in love. Even with a furious slip of a little one like you. I saw those gas smiles, and they made me determined to help you arrive at your happy place.
I thought my baby would be fat and easygoing. And then you were born, skinny and intense. Then you got all sorts of deliciously chubby... but stayed intense. And now there are so very many pudgy rolls, and there are so many different parts of your personality emerging... but I'm not sure you're ever be, ahem, "mellow." You feel things deeply. You have opinions. You are very "I am baby, hear me roar."
And, just like every other mother since the beginning of time, I think you're practically perfect in every way. I wouldn't change a thing about you. I love your intensity and spirit. I think it's hilarious that Daddy and I ended up with such a feisty fellow, because we were both goody two-shoes as little kids. Maybe you'll end up there in the end as well -- a regular cherub. And of course that would be wonderful! But I know that, deep down, you are brimming with slightly wicked spunk. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
Practically speaking, being back at work is hard. There are so many projects and assignments, and I haven't used these parts of my brain in awhile, so they feel a little rusty. There's also less space in the ol' noggin now... you and your cares have arrived and cluttered everything up! You're growing so fast and learning so much. There isn't a job, project, or person in the world who will ever be more important than my time with you.
This Monday has been a little easier. Grandma knows all sorts of tricks to help you get to your happy place now, and you get and stay there on your own more often these days anyway. You're such a hefty load and you love snuggles, so you're being a little hard on Grandma's arms... but I think she secretly likes that too!
I don't know how working mamas do this day after day, month after month, and year after year. I don't know if that's the path our family will go down forever. But for now, you and I both made it to week two, and we're doing okay.
You are not what I expected -- you are so, so much better than I could have ever dreamed. I love you with all my heart.
Love,
Mama