Elijah Liam,
My little Treefrog. My bubbie. My monkey, my darling, my little Timelord-in-training, my favorite little geekling... you're the light of my life, and you're the reason that I smile when the world feels like it's crumbling. It never matters how hard my day has been or how sick and hurting I am- one smile, one giggle from you and everything is sunshine and sparkles.
I can't believe that you're just a few days away from being a year old. You've grown so, so much in the last year my love. I remember when you were born, you fit in the crook of my arm and your hips were so skinny that we had to go out and buy preemie diapers for you. Now, you're my big boy. You grin and giggle, you cruise around your playpen ("Attica! Attica!") and you LOVE all kinds of food-- except for peas, and greenbeans until you figure out they're not peas in disguise. So far, your favorite has been the wheat bread with apple-cinnamon yogurt on it. You made an epic mess (and hid yogurt in your diaper for several hours) but you loved it and chattered at me until I made you more.
You've taught me so much in the last almost two years, from the flutter of excitement, fear and amazement when those two little lines popped up on the test to tonight when you shared your binky with everybody, including the cat and the alligator I made with my hand.
You've taught me courage, through the sleepless nights when I just felt you dance in my belly, when I was so scared that I wasn't ever going to get to meet you. I found out just how deep that courage runs in me now when I held you in my arms as you struggled to breathe with RSV. I was so proud of you, little man, when you didn't even cry when they started your new IV for your bronchioscopy. You fussed, of course, but you chirped and cooed the second that first poke was done. I haven't ever been that brave, love.
You taught me about fear, too darling. When you came into the world outside of Club Mom, you didn't cry. I remember asking why you weren't crying, and why you were sort of greyish-- I found out later that you'd come out wearing a necklace... your umbilical cord. You started squalling pretty quickly, but I remember the chill and the feeling that my heart had stopped before I heard that first, beautiful noise. I remember the fear when the nurses told me that if we hadn't brought you to the ER or been as insistent about your treatment, that we could've lost you in the night to that devil RSV. You're my little fighter, though! You've never once given up.
You showed me that a single person, who I've never met before, could be such a strong support during labor. I can't wait to tell you the stories of our L&D nurse, Murtaza. He was our nurse when I was in the hospital during my two weeks of pre-labor. I remember him waking me up in the night to turn me on my side, because you'd decided to establish a new baseline. He was there through the majority of my active labor, calming me and rubbing my back, explaining all the little things that I needed to know because I was so, so afraid. He understood and even helped me get a pen, when I told him I wanted to write something on your foot. Labor with you, and with him as our nurse, gave me a chance to learn about another culture and another religion. In making me a mom, you also reminded me that I'm an anthropologist and that my dreams of that haven't ended, they just have another component.
You taught me about a pride so strong that it makes me feel like my smile is going to break my face, and that I'll just about burst. I've been so proud of you for so many little things that I never would've even thought about before. You've been learning at a breakneck speed, just this last week you figured out waving byebye and playing peek-a-boo. You even say "BOO!" sometimes! Usually, it's "Ga!" or "Buh!", but I'm proud as a peacock about that, too. You're amazing at sharing and like to give me and daddy your bink. It's always slimy, but it's the slimy love of babies. Tonight, you would've made your Auntie Beth SO proud of you! She showed you how to bump it and 'splode it at Cal's celebration, and tonight... you got it. I hold up my fist and say "Bump it!" and you do! You even figured out how to make a fist, and you dissolved into giggles whenever I made the explosion noise. Granted, I also taught you how to headbutt tonight, but that was more of mommy being silly and not really thinking about a baby trying to headbutt. You have your daddy's forehead, that's for sure! I'm still smarting from when you cracked me.
Honey, you make me so happy to say "This is Eli. My son.". Every morning when I wake up to you talking and babbling at us, standing up in your crib so happy to just see me blink at you, it's a good morning. When I go to bed at night, I always stop and check on you. I brush the hair off your forehead, listen to you breathe and tell you "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living my baby you'll be.". You always sigh like you're relaxed and happy, and then settle back into your dreams. Lately, you've been turning on and off your music/light toy on your crib. You love it when lights come on! Well, you love anything electronic. The remote, my phone, the computer, the tv, anything! You love music, too. Especially theme songs-- Archer is your favorite. You're only going to get to watch that one a little longer, though, mister man. It's a little too grown-up once you start being a tiny anger sponge.
I don't know where the time has flown. I can remember the weird smell you had when you were born (it stuck around for days, and it was funky, but it was *you*) and how I didn't sleep for over 24 hours after labor, because I just couldn't take my eyes off of you. There was a good dose of "What do I do? I'm not ready! I can't get him to stop cry or nurse or anything and-" and then you'd be snuggle up against my chest, so happy to be skin-to-skin with my heartbeat in your ears. I remember you being so, so tiny in your sheep swing- and the day that you proved too big for it. The time has slipped by so fast. I want the years to slow down, so that I can cuddle you while you're little, so you'll reach for me to hold your hand or how you just want me to be sitting near you while you're playing. It doesn't matter if just the tip of my toe is touching you, that's good enough.
I can see all of my hopes and dreams in you. I have irrational fears and deep, profound, sometimes terrifying love. Ever little accomplishment that you make fills me with pride. I'm so glad to get to say that my body created you and brought you to this world, and that my arms have always been there for you to snuggle close in. I will always be there for you when you're scared, just the same as when you're happy.
Li-li, no matter where life take you or me, even if some day I'm gone (it will always been too soon when you have to say goodbye to someone), I'm proud of you. It doesn't matter who you love, what you want to be, what clothes you wear or music you listen to-- I will always and forever love you. When you tell me you hate me because you're angry, I'll love you. When you're a grown up, you'll still be my baby, because that's how mommies work. Right now, daddy and I are your world, and there's nothing like seeing your face light up when you see us. When things get rough, when we fight (and we will), just remember this:
"I love you, baby. Yana, my love. Yana."
Your mommy,
Loki
