Babies at four months (Theo, Gabe)
A few months ago, I talked about how my pregnancies compared to each other.
Now let’s talk about how my experiences of babyhood have compared with each other:
Last time: I reveled in the experience of having a baby. I was obsessed with my child. OBSESSED. I got sad at the prospect of him getting older and thought infants were the best thing ever. Spent the first month or so sitting on the couch watching Gilmore Girls and Mad Men.
This time: I love my baby to pieces, but find myself far less all-consumed by having a baby. Older child still needs caring for, so far less television hours were involved in the newborn days, sadly. Older child also means I know how great non-babies can be, so not really sad about baby getting older. I’m more obsessed with older child being obsessed with the baby than I am with merely having a baby. I think the experience is richer in some ways, but I still loved (loved!) becoming a mom for the very first time and just how intense it was.
Last time: I took a million billion photos on my DSLR every day and created (OMG I’m laughing at myself) a Facebook photo album for every month for the first year of his life. I imagine my Facebook friends’ eyes hurt from all the rolling.
Last time: Had a baby in our bed most nights. Moved the baby to his own room/crib at 6.5 months.
This time: Have a baby in our bed most nights (though he starts out in his sleeper). He will share our room until next July, when we’ll likely move. (Pediatrician thinks this is crazy. Clearly she serves mostly rich suburban families where the baby gets its own very fancy nursery.) (I’m not saying it’s bad to have a fancy nursery! Just that she’s not used to room sharing ways of plebeians like me.)
Last time: Struggled with nursing at first, was in a lot of pain, and thought I was doing it all wrong (though he did gain very quickly, I was just told it shouldn’t hurt! So I figured I was doing it wrong).
This time: Nursing was great right from the start and didn’t hurt at all. Amazing. Hooray. My favorite part of babyhood, perhaps.
Last time: Was rather nervous about many things – when he ended up bedsharing, when he got sick, when he was just a fragile little baby and OMG SOMETHING MIGHT GO WRONG.
This time: Felt much more calm and assured that all would be well and less like he was a fragile egg that might crack should I make a mistake of some sort. So I guess even though the highs weren’t as crazy high, the lows were also not as crazy low with all the hormones in those newborn days.
Most of all, I’m really thankful I’ve gotten to experience babyhood again. It’s such a fleeting, intense, joyous, exhausting period. Having a four-year-old around serves to remind me of that tired-but-true cliche it goes so fast. /end schmoopfest