I wasn’t going to write a birthday post for Connor’s first year…which seems very unlike me since writing is my favorite way to express my emotions, and I’m a pretty open book about everything else in my life. But truly, finding the right words to describe the last 12 months would never give justice to how I’ve really felt. I fear my words won’t reflect my first year of motherhood adequately, or should I say, HOW can words really represent the raw emotions I’ve felt day in and day out? I guess that’s the thing with writing though, words are merely the closest thing I can do to express to how I actually feel. The nitty gritty details, between the lines moments, whatever you want to call it… those are selfishly just mine to hold onto forever.
After a fast 50 minutes of pushing, I’ll never forget hearing my husband say, “It’s a BOY”. I’ll never forget bold blue eyes looking up at me. The blue eyes we prayed for, looking at me while laying on my chest. I’ll never forget the nurse saying that my little tiny baby was actually a strong, sturdy, 8 pound man! In a single moment, our world flipped upside down, forever. In the best way possible.
Like most mothers say, the beginning was a blur. I remember Jake heading back to work, and me calling him at 1030am begging him to come home, because Connor just wouldn’t stop crying. I remember a very specific night that my mom happen to be in town, and nothing was keeping Connor from screaming. Jake and I felt both helpless and embarrassed that she was witnessing us at such a vulnerable and desperate state. I remember putting Connor in the car to drive across town, just because I couldn’t bare holding him for another second. Driving was a break for me. Those first few months of life were all such a blur.
Quarantine hit and I felt relief. Jake’s work schedule slowed down to almost nothing, and we spent our days together; almost like a fairytale. Nothing to do but stare at our baby.
Summer time was when I started feeling myself again. I was able to workout out pretty regularly, and the sunshine was so good for both Connor and me. I started feeling like “I could do this”. I could see the light as a new mother.
And before I knew it, the holidays were here, my baby wasn’t so newborn anymore, and I struggled laying him down each night, knowing he would be a bit bigger the next morning.
The “party planning” part of me has been looking forward to this day; I love birthdays! But the majority of me has been dreading it. I cry at the blink of an eye knowing that time seems to be stuck on the fast forward button of an old VCR. What I would give to be back on the couch with a 2 week old baby glued to me.
Time. We all hear it, and I’ve said it quite a few times when I blog about motherhood. It’s a thief. And I just can’t seem to accept that.
I pray that I never forget this first year of Connor’s life. The hard moments, the quiet moments, and the really really happy moments too. I pray I never forget the early morning wakings, where I snuck into his room and let him sleep on me in his rocker. I pray I never forget the summer we walked around Shaker Heights, falling in love with our neighborhood. And I pray that I never forget his button nose and big-cheeked profile. I always imagined the love I would feel as a mother, but never in a million years did I think it would be this good. The last 12 months have been the absolute greatest of my life. I don’t take a single second for granted. What a privilege it is to be someone’s person, someone’s mother. These are the days I’ve dreamt about my whole life.
And even on the days I didn’t think I could do it, I did. I made it! Connor is one, but so am I in a way. A newer, better version of myself. Yes, I’ve made it.
Connor Herbie, you are curious, loud, busy, and ONE YEAR OLD! You are the brightest light in our world, and we’ll never stop saying, “I love you”. Until my very last breath, my baby you’ll always be. XO,