I wish that I had done a better job of blogging about the first seven months of Katie’s life, because I am finding it hard to recall all the little details, in hindsight. A large part of these months has been a blur of sleepless nights and very busy days.
The best I can do is to give you a pictorial timeline of how much this darling little baby has changed over these seven months. Since she was born, she has gone from a quiet happy baby who loves nothing better than to nurse and cuddle with her mama, to a bigger (and less quiet) happy baby who loves nothing better than to nurse and cuddle with her mama, when she’s not trying to master crawling, or pulling up to stand, or giggling like a wild thing at her big sisters.
Seven months seemed to fly by in the blink of my eyes, and then yesterday, Katie turned eight months old. She is fun, and funny, and gets very excited when we sing “Itsy Bitsy Spider” and count her piggies as they’re going to the market. Her first word was “Addah”, followed quickly by “Dada” and “Bubu” (when she wants to nurse). She has two bottom teeth and is working on the top two. She sleeps well, once she’s done fighting sleep each night, and her favorite place to sleep is curled up with Mama or Daddy.
She is a joy, truly and completely.
I won’t say it’s always been easy, these past seven months. In fact, it’s been pretty hard at times. I’m not the energetic early-twenty-something I was when my big girls were born, nor am I the more relaxed version of myself that I was when I was pregnant with Clara. In some ways, I feel like a first-time mother again, worrying over every tiny cry or bump, checking her breathing a hundred times a night to make sure that she is, in fact, still breathing. Her sister Clara’s death has made me a more vigilant parent than I was, even with Lakin and Addah. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing, or a bad thing, but it is who I am, as a parent, now.
I am also more aware of what a treasure Katie is, and I make a point to appreciate the little things: her tiny fingers curling around mine, and the way her bottom lip quivers when she falls asleep after nursing. Packaged along with the pain of loss, I have discovered the gift of appreciation for every moment with this wonderful baby.
She’s growing up so fast, and so healthy, and that, too, is a gift, one that makes every day feel like Christmas morning.