A (very long overdue) Letter to My Four Month Old

Dear Vivi,

You’ve been on this earth for an entire third of a year. How has this happened already? The sleepless nights are becoming a bit distant already and are being replaced with images of the growing little baby girl you’ve become, one with new fat rolls, inquisitive looks, and  precious smiles. I purposely waited to write this letter because all I could think about was how close I was to returning to work and dropping you off at the HCM daycare every day. Oh, my heart. I think when you were born you took my heart right along with you. Dear girl, please know that I would stay home with you if I could, but it just isn’t possible right now. I never thought I could be a stay-at-home mama until you came along. I would give just about anything to be with you more days of the week than not. Maybe some day, sweet girl.

What have you been up to this month? Well, you’re getting really good at smiling these days, and it just melts my heart. The joy of your own baby is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. For all those screams and middle of the night pumping sessions, for every second that I’m so worn out and feel like I’ll never be rested again, I am the recipient of an ear-to-ear, toothless grin from your precious face. What else are you up to?

• You’ve found your hands and suck on them incessantly. Sometimes you get brave and attempt to stick both in your mouth, leaving behind a stringy mess of drool as you pull them out.
• You don’t scream like someone touched you with a hot poker when we’re in the car these days! That’s new-about three weeks or so. My ears thank you.
• Tummy time: Dad realized that I’m not so good at doing this with you, so he gets down on your play mat with you and helps you roll over, which you’ve done a few times now, belly to back. Big girl!
• Your little bobble head is becoming more stable these days. Yay head control!
• Hungry, hungry hippo that you are, you’re now eating about 3 ½ ounces every feeding.
• You still fit into newborn clothes, but I’m hoping that we’ll get to put you in some of your summery 3 month outfits before the weather turns too cool.
• When you get really upset it almost sounds like you’re saying, “MEH!” or “Ma!”
• I can distinguish between your hungry cry and sleepy cry these days. Basically the hungry cry sounds like you’re madder than a wet hen.
• Your hair finally started falling out. First this creepy little ring around the back, but then there are some patches on the front sides that are falling out too. In fact, whenever I kiss you I end up with hair in my mouth that I take with me, like a little snack. The back of your carseat is littered with hair too. If I didn’t know better I’d swear that a cat had found a perfect little sleeping nook, but unfortunately it’s little newborn strands.
• For your 4 month appointment, you allegedly weighed 8 lbs 14 oz, but on a scale at Babyology the week before you weighed 8 lbs 15 oz without a diaper and 9 lbs even with a diaper, so I think the scale was just off at the doctor’s office.
• At that same appointment, you hit 75% of your milestones (not adjusted for preemie status, FYI) and the ones that you didn’t meet pertained to your lack of tummy time (which we’re now obviously working on-thanks, Dad!) We’ll reevaluate you for cereal attempts at 6 months. You’re still “lower than the 3^rd percentile” as far as height/weight etc., but your weight gain is consistent, so the doctors are happy. You took your shots just fine but wailed for several minutes. Beyond that, it was hard to tell that you’d been stabbed by sharp things and forced to ingest icky meds orally. All in all, it went pretty smoothly.
• Somehow I’ve subjected you to several nicknames. When I was pregnant it was Smalls. When you were born and for the first 2-3 months it was Sister. The latter has stuck, but in addition we now have Munch-ka-moo, Bugaboo, and Sister Sue. It’s out of control. I’m so sorry.

I look back at the little baby who came home from the hospital at 4 lbs 6 oz and I can’t even believe how far you’ve come and that we were even allowed to take you home. You’re still just a little wisp of a girl, but are no longer the tiniest little baby I’ve ever held.

I can’t even believe that next month you’ll be six months old. SIX MONTHS! Craziness. Being a mama is seriously the hardest work I’ve ever put forth, but in the “this is so hard but worth every hurdle” kind of way.

There are things I want to tell you, sweet one. I want to tell you about how having you has made me a stronger person, more assertive, and more willing to say what I think. More on that later.

Love you to the moon and back,

Mama

P.S.  When are you going to start looking like me?!