Little Baby Fingers

 

Babies are a wonder. I seriously sit here sometimes and think about how completely indescribable the relationship between mom and baby truly is. How my love and happiness could be so undeniably wrapped around those tiny little fingers I will never understand. 

I now understand the meaning of "loving someone so much it hurts". 

I love Camden so much I ache for him. 

I ache for the pains in life he'll inevitably encounter, I ache for those tummy pains, I ache for his struggle to learn to navigate life outside the womb. 

Camden may spit up on me and my friends frequently. 

He occasionally uses the bathtub as his diaper while I'm bathing him. 

And he's recently become a fan of the 20 minute catnap. 

BUT I still stare at him and wonder what I did to be so lucky. 

Seriously my kid probably wonders why I just sit and look at him so much! 

He's made me into quite the worry wart of sorts. 

Is he getting enough milk? 

Is he getting too much milk?

Is my letdown too fast? 

Why is he spitting up?

Does his tummy hurt?

Is he sleeping enough?

Is he over sleeping? 

Is he too warm?

Is he cold? 

Will I spoil him? 

Does he have a gas bubble? 

Is he colicky? 

I drive Garth insane with all of my theories I throw at him when he walks through the door.  

Everyday Camden's unexplainable actions have been diagnosed as something else by me. Everyday I have a new thing I need to try. Something else I want to begin teaching him. 

I know Garth looks at me like a crazy person, but I can't help it. 

Camden's happiness is now so completely and totally intertwined with mine that I constantly want to make him as comfortable and happy as possible. I want to make this transition from the womb to the world that much easier and smooth for him.

Some days he wakes up and I wish for twenty more minutes. 

Some days I wake up and can't wait for him to wake up. 

But always without fail I am happy when I go into his room in the morning and see his little face. 

Every morning I grab my handsome boy from his crib and we begin our day together. 

Sometimes he cries when he's tired and I wish I could help him and I wish he would sleep, 

but every single time he calms or falls asleep in my arms I don't want to put him down. I want to freeze time and just enjoy this moment we have together. 

I tell myself its better for he and I if I put him down, so I do. But I can't help but check him and smile at how cute he is when he sleeps multiple times during his nap. 

 

Camden is a child all his own. He's not like any other baby I've ever encountered. 

He's going to be a talker like his momma. He babbles more than any little boy I've seen. 

He will let you know what he wants, you can be sure of that. 

He loves his bouncer seat. 

His mobile provides endless entertainment. 

When he smiles its no small grin, it fills his whole face, and occasionally its accompanied by a sticking out tongue.

I don't always know what he wants, but he's patient with me. 

All I know for sure is every night my knees hit the floor and I pray to be the best mom I can be, to know what choices I should be making for my little guy, and to be better tuned in to his needs--but most of all--I thank God for sending me his child that I now call my own.