Happy 7 Months, My Darling
That went really, really fast. My baby boy is 7 months old. When I close my eyes and think of him, all I can hear is Cleopatra by The Lumineers and all I can see and feel is his one minute old 7 pound 9 ounce body laying on my chest taking his first few breaths. So much has happened over these past 7 months I'm not sure where to begin - I've experienced more love, more exhaustion and more purpose in life than ever before. Motherhood has greatly exceeded my expectations and I'm grateful for every single second I get to be Logan's mama.
I'd like to take it back to the very beginning (birth story coming soon) to the day we took him home from the hospital and began our parenthood journey. After an intense labor and delivery, I was still shocked at the aftermath. Natural birth is BEAUTIFUL but my recovery was wild and made this new adjusted life more difficult. I tried to be 100% present but dealing with so much pain and intense sleepiness made those early baby bliss days and weeks with my boy earth-side a challenge. I couldn't sit directly on my butt, I couldn't lay flat on my back and I needed help getting up and down. All the while, I was a new breastfeeding mother who had to pump when my newborn wasn't attached to me so I wouldn't get mastitis for a second time or leak all over the place. I was overwhelmed, exhausted and as that day 5 postpartum let down (which for me was my milk supply and emotions) hit me, I needed some intense comforting and guidance - cue my sister and mom! My sister Caitlin had also just given birth to her second baby boy Jake a week before me so she was right in the thick of it too. She, along with Jake attached to her chest, helped me with the hormonal roller coaster I faced from day to day. She taught me all I needed to know about breastfeeding, how to deal with the initial pain of it, what to do during those 2am feedings, how to leave the house with a baby, how to not lose my mind, how to be a mom. She taught me those simple tips that made all difference. Thank God for her. And to my mom, who saw it all go down, literally, she brought me back to life.
Logan and I got into a pretty sweet groove after those first 8 or so tough weeks. He can be a needy little dude at times, mainly because he loves that boob, and I love that he needs me. I spend most of my time nursing him, kissing him and squeezing his chunky thighs. At 7 months old I can tell you that Logan hates his crib, he loves crawling and standing up, he hates peas and sweet potatoes, he loves to snuggle his Charliejoe Kantha Bunny Lovey, he loves tickles and flying like an airplane, he can tolerate his Sesame Street tub for approx. 8 minutes, he loves biting daddy's nose, he loves Greek Yogi bites, he loves to laugh at anyone that pays close attention, and most of all, he lights up every room (and he knows it).