getting to know you

Dear Lillia,

Guess what? You're here! You know, even after another long labor (well, not the real laboring part, but you know...) I still look down at my belly and think, Where'd it go? How does it happen so fast? One minute it's just Daddy, Bella, me and the belly, and the next moment our lives are fuller and our hearts are bigger.

Of course, it's hard to say exactly who you are after just one week two weeks out in the world, but I spend most of my day shaking my head in amazement. I knew you were different than Bella - I had this intuition that the soul sharing my body was light hearted and peaceful. In fact, that's one reason I thought you were a boy, you were just so very very different. I just didn't know how different. You came out with brown fuzzy hair, which I thoroughly enjoy. I'd better stop petting it or you'll lose it before anything new comes in!

You sleep. That in itself is a miracle to me. You are so so so laid back. I think you've used your lungs once a day in the last three days, and that's it. (Okay, so it's a bit more this week, but I'll take it.) You are a mama's girl. Bella would go to anyone, and craved the movement and excitement and attention. You are soothed the very moment you and I touch. It is a strange feeling for me, and so rewarding.

You don't like the car much, but will fall asleep if you can have your hand wrapped around my finger. You take a pacifier (whoooaaah, I try not to use it.) and you purr in your sleep. Instead of waking up with little squeaks like Bella did, you grunt and cry and squeal. Your cries are extremely whiny, which I find hilarious. Bella was insistent, but not whiny. Until you came along, I simply thought everyone else's babies just seemed whiny. You also sigh great big sighs through your nose, and it sounds like the snort of a horse.

The hardest thing I'm learning is that your calm little spirit does not like to be unsettled, and the things that unsettle you are so different than Bella's, so I feel like a new mom again. As easy as you are, I have very few tricks up my sleeve for you. You crave peace. You are just learning to enjoy walking around with me, and finally this week you are accepting being worn. You sleep much better by yourself - you'll sleep on my belly, but anytime else you'd much rather sleep in your rocker. Coming from two years of a baby who needed constant contact and stimulation, this is beyond my comprehension.

Bella was a squished little baby - you got to float around in an ocean, goofing off for nine months. Now that you are out, you want nothing to do with swaddling. At three or four days your whole body was already completely relaxed. You still like to nurse with your hands in your face, and if you are on your belly you sleep with them there, too, but usually you spread out like a lazy teenager. I've never seen such a loose newborn before! Someone brought to my attention that in addition to her small home in my belly, Bella was likely scrunched up in a ball because she was in so much pain from her stomach. It breaks my heart to think so, but now that I see you, it makes sense.

I'm starting to understand you a bit more every day. I now know that if anything is wrong in your body, you will refuse to nurse. It's amazing to me that you understand that, and that you are patient in letting me remedy your problems, whether it be to burp you or put you in a better position. You're a gentle little nurser and like to snack, falling asleep while being burped or changed.

These might all sound like little things, but you don't know how many times I looked down at my belly over the past nine months and thought, Please, please, please be a healthy, easy child. I love Bella to pieces, and every struggle with her has had its rewards times a thousand, but I am still raising her, too. I'm so grateful to add you to the family, my little peace bomb. My world starts to spin when I think how lucky I am that you chose me. You calm my soul one little sleep grin at a time.


Love, mama