A Year of Becoming

A mother’s reflection on her daughter’s first

As I lay here with you on your birthday looking back at this last year, I am both at a loss for words and have too many words. This year feels like it went by in a blink and that you’ve always been a part of me, of us. You seem so big and capable yet still so small and dependent on us.

Watching you develop and unfold this year has been incredible, and in turn I feel that I have developed and unfolded as well. For everything that you have learned this year, you have really taught me just as much.

When you first arrived, you opened your eyes and looked around. Cuddled on my chest, I learned what it felt to truly love unconditionally.

That first night at the hospital, you were learning to breathe, and squirm, and nurse, and poop, and I learned just how much worry would be a part of parenthood.

When we brought you home, we were all adjusting to this new life. There were many tears shed as we got to know each other. You learned to rest in our arms. I learned that you can love somebody so much that it hurts.

You got to meet your brother, Pancakes. He felt a little nervous at first but seemed to learn pretty quickly just how special you are. I learned how lucky we are to have such a good boy.

Over the first few weeks home, you got better and better at breastfeeding. We spent many hours a day together nursing. I learned what it meant to surrender and to be okay with getting nothing done because taking care of you is the most important job I’ve ever had.

We spent many hours and many days just staying at home together in the beginning weeks. We spent time together going for walks, laying at the park, sitting on the couch, watching Drag Race. The hours melted together and I learned what it feels like when the puzzle pieces of our family fell into place.

You spent many naps in daddy’s arm. He would rock you to sleep against his chest, and you learned the sound of his heartbeat. I didn’t know how much I could love him, until I saw how much he loved you.

You did lots of tummy time. You learned to hold your head up. You learned to kick your legs around. In all of these little ways you played, I learned to slow down.

You used to really hate being in the car. You learned to use your voice to let us know. I learned the importance of a deep breath and co-regulation.

Your coos turned to smiles and your smiles turned to giggles. Never did I know that my heart could melt so fully with just one look, one sound.

You never did end up taking a bottle, and after many, many, many frustrating failed attempts, we learned how important it is to meet you where you are at.

You were always a pretty easy going baby. I learned how important it is to tune into you, to see life through your eyes so that I could know what you needed.

You started rolling over and you learned to navigate the room by rolling from one spot to another. You started sitting, making it easier to reach and play with your toys. Now mobile and vertical, I learned how fleeting these precious moments of babyhood are.

You started eating food. You learned to poke at it, pick it up and bring it to your mouth. As you touched, tasted, and explored, I learned that I can trust just how capable you are.

Next came crawling and pulling to stand. With more movement came more boo boos. I learned that I can’t always be there to catch you when you fall, but being there for you after is more important anyways.

Time started flying from there. All of the little incremental steps just started flashing by. You were on the go; you started walking at 10.5 months. You started to become so much more interactive with everyone, including Pancakes. We began to see how much you can understand. You learned to make other people laugh. You learned to climb at the playground. You learned to start using the potty. You are learning to say no. I learned that time is a thief.

I am learning to accept that I can’t stop time. I think through every one of the thousands of pictures and videos I have taken this year, I am grasping at being able to hold onto these deep, raw, uncomplicated versions of our love and relationship. There are moments that make me wish I could freeze time and live here forever. But that’s not how it’s supposed to be. With every new little milestone, the smiles, the words, the giggles, the dancing, the songs, the meals, the hugs and kisses, the new understandings, I am once again excited to see what part of you is going to become next.

This year has been a becoming. Everyday you are becoming more of yourself. And you are teaching me to become more of myself too. When you were born one year ago today, I didn’t realize I would be reborn along with you.

Our relationship will grow and evolve along with us, but the impact of this year has left a mark on my heart and my soul that won’t soon go away.

Being your mama is the greatest joy of my life. It’s brought me more of everything and made me see life in brighter colors. I cherish all of the moments we have shared this year. I cherish getting to be your mommy. I cherish our relationship. And most of all I cherish you.

I am so glad you are in our lives. Happy birthday E. Thank you for being you.