A First Last
Karl is out of town this week and Henry and I are being exceedingly lazy. I also only have 10 days left at home before I head back to work, so I'm trying to soak up every minute of it. Yesterday he fell asleep in my arms, face against my chest, as I was swaying him to sleep for a nap. Rather than putting him down in the crib, I grabbed the Kindle and carefully crawled into our bed without waking him.
Henry spent much of the first six weeks of his life sleeping in this position. It was one of my favorite parts of the newborn phase. So warm and soft and sleepy. He fit just perfectly right there.
Yesterday, instead of being curled up like a little bug, he was sprawled out like a pint-size man, chubby legs akimbo and stretching halfway down to my knees, one arm tucked under mine and the other arm thrown possessively across my torso. He slept that way for almost three hours and it was heavenly. I found myself wondering if that was the last time he would nap like that.
After 14 weeks at home, I'm acutely aware of how much I will miss when I'm only with him a couple hours in the evening. The changes are slowing down considerably from the pace of the first few months, but he's still a little different every week. The chest nap was already disappearing -- he hadn't done it in a couple of weeks, and he's getting too big for it to be very comfortable for him -- and I probably won't be around to catch the last few that might have happened.
Many of the parents I know worry about missing the firsts: first standing up, first steps, first word. But at least after he takes the first step or says the first word, he'll keep on walking and talking for the next 80 years or so (perhaps I will feel very differently the first time the nanny calls to tell me about some milestone I missed). Right now I'm sadder about missing the lasts, those things that I so enjoyed but that can't last forever.
Henry spent much of the first six weeks of his life sleeping in this position. It was one of my favorite parts of the newborn phase. So warm and soft and sleepy. He fit just perfectly right there.
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| Chest nap at two weeks. |
Yesterday, instead of being curled up like a little bug, he was sprawled out like a pint-size man, chubby legs akimbo and stretching halfway down to my knees, one arm tucked under mine and the other arm thrown possessively across my torso. He slept that way for almost three hours and it was heavenly. I found myself wondering if that was the last time he would nap like that.
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| Self-photo of chest nap at 3.5 months. |
Many of the parents I know worry about missing the firsts: first standing up, first steps, first word. But at least after he takes the first step or says the first word, he'll keep on walking and talking for the next 80 years or so (perhaps I will feel very differently the first time the nanny calls to tell me about some milestone I missed). Right now I'm sadder about missing the lasts, those things that I so enjoyed but that can't last forever.
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