Monday, August 5, 2013

Something About Babies {Mindful Mothering Mondays}

She's stretched out on the couch, four months old at four o' clock in the afternoon.  Still not quite old enough for those regularly scheduled naps, she falls deeply asleep at a whim, wherever she chances to be at the time.

There's just something about it.  A sleeping baby.  Something distinctly other-worldly that makes us bend nearer for another look.  Some say it is the angelic expression on their resting faces.  For me, with Rosemary, it's these still, quiet moments that allow me to study the incredible artwork of her features, the featherdown of her lashes, the perfect pin point dimples on the top of her hand.

Growing babies is an odd thing.  It is completely biologically normal.  Babies make sense.  They are the raison d'etre of the entire world.  Life itself is the making and raising of babies, because without babies - life stops.  It's all over.

And yet, we still marvel.  Steal glances at the rounded abdomen of that woman in the grocery store, wondering when she's due.  Tell our birth stories again and again, just as if every human on earth wasn't once a baby, arriving in much the same way.  Growing babies is an odd thing because, while it is normal and natural and makes so much sense, even the most logical of us all cannot escape the feeling that there's a bit of magic there.  I feel it when I hug a friend, due any day, and her stomach gently butts up against mine.  I know, intellectually, that we are not alone in this embrace, that someone else is right there.  Yet I'm still absolutely amazed when, days later, I see the person who was there with us, silently and invisibly included in our moment together.  The same person, just now visible.

I've grown a bumper crop of babies in my 29 years. 6 stair steps.  6 unique individuals that would not exist without my "yes."  6 souls grown right up under my heart, in that quiet and safe place before bursting on the scene and beginning the work of severing themselves from me.  Babies are magic because they touch us and move on.  We think it is about us, our decision to welcome them, our birth experience when they arrive - but it's not.  It is never about us.  It's never about the color of the nursery decor, or if she looks more like her daddy or me.  It is my story, but then again, it's not.

It's about the birth of a brand spankin' new soul.  A person who has never before existed and never will again.  A person who will live on this earth and touch lives and speak words and make a mark.  Her mark.  Not because she's mine, but because she is herself.  She's looking about the world with her own eyes, her own opinions, her own heart.  And while I am her guardian during these first tender years, ultimately it is her life.  And I am just here to witness, encourage, and love her through.

But, for now, she is four months.  And she is sleeping, on a grey couch on a summer afternoon.  Like a wildlife photographer, I move as silently as I can, trying to capture the triumph that is a perfectly unique human - knowing that billions of parents take billions of photographs and these will mean little to anyone but me. She stirs a bit, those lips pucker slightly and I freeze - wait for her to calm back down, and she does.  A little sigh.  Her eyes move under heavy lids.  What do babies dream of?  I'll never know.  Just another little thing about my girl that is not mine.

As Mamas do for generations before, and will for generations after, I'll love this girl with everything that I am.  And, as true a love a human can muster, it will not be about what I get from it - but what I give.

Her arms are flung wide, fearless in their emphatic trust.  I'm here, watching.  Once again, opened up to the letting go.  I wouldn't want it any other way.


{It's Mindful Mothering Mondays, a day to take a deep breath and write out your mothering journey, whatever form it takes. A day to link up for encouragement from others who are in this same phase of life. A day of writing out the trials and triumphs and what you're learning right where you are, right now. You might post recent struggles or thoughts. Maybe just a picture or a quote. Or maybe you'll just come here and read the links that others post. Whatever form your participation takes, this is a day for you. We are all in this, together. Together, we can encourage and build one another up, be honest with our shortcomings and strengthened by community to keep fighting the good fight.
I chose Mondays because what Mama doesn't need a little encouragement on a Monday? As such, I'll have the link up ready to go on Sunday night for you to begin submitting your links.

I hope you'll meet with me each Monday! Here's what to do ~

Link up your post below. Remember to put the link to the exact post you want to link, and not just your blog url. Include in your post a link back here so others who want to join in can find us! And visit some other Mamas who have linked up.

Post the community graphic within your post, so people who are reading your Mindful Mothering post can come back here and find the rest of us!

Invite the writers of your favorite blogs to join in!

Share this meme with others on facebook and twitter. This community is for all moms, and the more that participate, the more we will be able to enjoy!!}

Grab the graphic here:

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  1. I love this post:) I am due with my 6th currently and I am 28 years old:) And it's true they wouldn't be here without my "yes". So true.

  2. Congratulations! So exciting!

  3. She is beautiful and I love the whispy hair picture, it is just amazing.

  4. Beautiful photos. I can't believe it has been 4 months, wow!

    Your words right on, as always.

  5. She is so precious! What a delicious looking baby.
    My arms are aching for another little one!


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