My little Raja,
It's hard to believe it has been six months since the
last time I wrote to you. The last few months have flown by, and you have grown so much. Today was your first birthday, and you had quite a fun day. You are laying here next to me, asleep. I put you to sleep almost every night. This night, I had planned a blog post and video for your birthday, so our friends and family could see what you have been up to, the highlights of your first year. That didn't work out though, because you took a long time to go to sleep. I was getting impatient with you for taking so long. I tried to get in a comfortable position, to balance you, the computer, and the camera all on my lap. Nursing you at the keyboard just isn't as easy as it used to be, now that you're so big. I was fidgeting, frustrated, wishing you would just go to sleep already. I looked down at you, in some feeble attempt to
will you to go to sleep, and I saw your dark liquid eyes just staring at me. There was barely any light; I had to squint to make out your face. Yet there you were - quiet, still, but not asleep - just watching me.
Since you were a tiny infant, you have often fallen asleep this way. I used to sit with you on my lap, talking to your Dad or someone else, and you would just lay on my chest, staring up at me with heavy-lidded eyes and a milk-drunk smile, and you would slowly drift off to sleep, still watching me between blinks until the exhaustion was too much for you.
You are older now, but you still do this. Especially if I have been working a lot, or busy, you will lay in my arms, barely nursing, but watching me intently. It's often the only time in a day that you are still. You will let other people put you to sleep at night sometimes. However, if someone else puts you to sleep, you will wake up within an hour looking for me. You've got a very sensitive mommy radar. So sensitive, in fact, that if I enter the room after someone else has put you to sleep, you will wake up within five minutes. Literally, five minutes. And if we've had a day where we didn't get to hang much, well, then we get our hang time anyway - in little three minute intervals throughout the night. So I've learned to make sure we connect often on days I have a lot of work. And on the rare occasion I'm unable to, I don't mind so much when you wake me, because I've missed you too.
Sometimes it's hard on me that you need me so much. Sometimes, like tonight, I get tired and impatient. I think especially because sleep usually comes easy to you - so when it doesn't, I get unnecessarily aggravated. I needed a reality check tonight. Were you trying to teach me a lesson? Were you telling me something? Something like...Mama, one day, you will be missing this. You will miss the days when I was so in love with you that I needed to see you every night before I fell asleep.
I will, son, I know I will.
I want to never forget the weight of your sleep heavy body in my arms, your damp hair against my half-numb arm, your warm smooth skin, the faintly sour-sweet smell of your breath, the impossibly long eyelashes finally fluttering to complete stillness, your pursed lips, still moving as you dream-nurse. It is one of my favorite memories of you, of us. Thanks for reminding me to enjoy it. Happy birthday, my adorable little guy. I love you.
Love,
your mama
P.S. You woke up three times while I wrote you this letter. I learned my lesson, I promise. But could ya go back to that long-stretch-of-sleep-in-the-evening-so-Mommy-can-do-stuff thing again? Thanks.
