Newborn: Breath of Heaven

Capturing the essence of newborn...

First precious moments of life...we see you in those last moments of exiting the womb, yet before you are born, then out you come, your wet, warm body just expels from your home of 9 months, from all you have ever known and into your Mama's arms and to my breast where I continue to love, hold and nourish you.  So fresh from being knit together in my womb by the very Creator of the universe!

Tiny, unsupported frame that pulls in to remain in the position you held for months on end....snuggled on my chest, feet tucked under your body, arms pulled in, head burrowed into my chest.  You are warm.  Here, you are at peace and appear completely comforted. In this place, I can sit for hours - trying to absorb your very essence....trying to embrace and remember forever what it feels like to hold this tiny life so close in my arms.

Little arms, legs, feet, and hands with jerky, flailing movements.  Toes that spread wide in all directions, then scrunch in.......legs that kick out then pull in and tuck close to your body.

Eyes that first appear startled by the very world around you, day by day begin to stabilize, focus and be at peace.

Sneezes and wheezes; burps and toots; the gurgling of bowls; the clearing of airways; grunts and sporadic breaths; tiny "billy goat" noises that your Mama and Papa will never, ever forget.

Diaper changes that involve the entire outfit.

Cries that pierce the nerves of those around you, a fierce weapon against anyone who might forget your immediate needs. Sweet smelling and searching as your impatiently await your food. Frantic nursing as you first latch on before you realize you may drink your fill. Waking twice each night to fill your tiny belly. Eat, wake, sleep.....eat, wake, sleep.

Hours spent with Papa gently coaxing out the painful tummy aches by holding, rocking, walking, and cuddling.

Sweet smell, softest of skin, fuzzy hair, warm body.

Slowly changing, unnoticed, day by day.....

"It is not a slight thing when they, who are so fresh from God, love us." - Charles Dickens

Capturing Life as the Train Speeds By

This is supposed to be a hand-written journal. However, as the days and weeks pass without any entries into Caleb's childhood journal, I have sought another medium. Daily, I hear myself "reading" my own entries in my mind......Panic seizes me as I realize I am missing my chance to capture this precious time due to my stubbornness of having to have a particular format in which to do so – the journal......so here I begin, relinquishing that struggle in hopes that a blog will help me in my journey to hold on to as many memories as I can.

"Today, you said blanket for the first time instead of 'dop dop'", or
"Today, you said 'I love you, Mama'" and it made my heart melt.”

The trouble with trying to capture life is that you can’t. I guess if one had no other priorities, stresses, obligations, etc.....one could devote a large amount of time each day to capturing what one could via the written word and/or video. However, this stage of life – that of a 2-3 year old – is like riding on a speed train. Before you have a chance to look out the window, you have passed the landmark and are moving on to something else. Generalizations might encompass going from “you are learning new words”...to “you are speaking in full sentences”. Having missed the middle means having missed so many nuances and lasts....the last time you said “sha shas” for raisins.....the last time ‘thank you’ sounded like ‘tae you’. .....The journal entries would have to read “today is the day – the last time.....we are leaving this precious stage’.

Childhood is a miracle – a time when time stands still for the child, yet flies more rapidly than water for the parents. To me, becoming a parent meant fully realizing that oft repeated statement you hear over and over from every ‘older’ person......”they’ll be grown before you know it.....cherish this time”. Day after day appears the same for the adult, with general changes coming only often enough to chronicle in an annual Christmas letter. Yet, the life of a child is like watching a metamorphosis unfolding before your very eyes. It drives you to your knees in search of life’s purpose.