My baby isn’t a baby anymore. I woke up one day this week and she had changed. Today she turns 4 months old and granted she IS still a baby, but she’s not that snuggly, little newborn anymore. She’s no longer the image people get when they think of a baby; that tiny, sweet, little newborn package that you can cradle in your arms and snuggle and watch sleep sweetly.
This change is especially hard for me this time for a few reasons. BabyGirl is, and will remain, our last and we are getting the shortest amount of time in that amazing, teeny newborn stage. She was born at 37 weeks gestation where as both of the boys were preemies, arriving at 33 weeks and 34 weeks, which gave us an extra 6-7 weeks of that wonderful newborn phase. Also, our second son stayed extra small for extra long (he’s 2.5 years now and I just bought him 12-18m pants!) and he has always been the snuggler, so in comparison to him the contrast is even greater. And did I mention she is our only girl and the only granddaughter for all sets of grandparents??
Already she won’t rest her head on my shoulder anymore; she’s too busy taking in the world around her. No more naps on my chest or belly; asleep attached at the boob is the closest I get ;) She’s babbling, giggling, rolling, and sleeping through the night (although not so much this week with the 4 month growth spurt coming on), all these things amounting to her growing up too fast already. That precious time has slipped away in the blink of an eye.
I remember with my first child everyone used to ask me “Don’t you just want to freeze time so that he doesn’t grow?” and my answer was always “No way, I can’t wait to see what he’s going to do next!”. This time, I’m ready to stop the clocks.