almost 3 months

Dear BabyHope,

I want to capture as much of these moments with you as I can. I want to remember them all not only because you might be our one and only, but because this is the only time you will have them. I want you to know how cherished you are, even when you are crying at 4AM and I’m exhausted. You are almost 3 months old. These three months have been the fastest of my entire life.

I want to remember your pouty bottom lip just as you are beginning to cry. And the real tears you’ve shed since day one.

I want to remember your big grins. And the laughs in your sleep. And the furrowed brow.

I want to remember the way you watch me when other people hold you as if to warn me not to wander.

I want to remember the way you’ve begun watching your own feet and hands.

I want to remember the way you sleep with your hands up by your ears and in your hair. And I want to remember how when you get mad you pull on your ears and your hair, making it that much worse.

I want to remember your hair. Long in the back, short in the front, and curled in a different way each day. And the rainbow of colors it is. I wonder every day what color it will be. And if the curls will stay.

I want to remember so much about your eyes. Their intensity is incredible. And their blue-ness, though I know it won’t stay, is beautiful. They’ll still be beautiful whatever color they end up.

I want to remember the way you like to snuggle in my arms in just the “right” position: angled slightly towards me, sitting mostly upright, gazing at me, and occasionally everything else.

I want to remember your sharp little nails. And the lint you collect in your hands.

I want to remember how you love your play mat. You stare at the animals floating above your head and seem to command them with your voice. You’ve started accidentally batting and kicking them.

I want to remember how you love to stare at the letters that spell your name above your changing table.

I want to remember how you really don’t think tummy time is worth the effort. You’d much rather just find your hands and suck on them.

I want to remember, though so annoying, that startle reflex that will wake you from the deepest sleep.

I want to remember those tiny sneezes.

I want to remember how your feet are growing out of their socks in length. I’m not sure you’ll ever out-grow anything in width or girth.

I want to remember the “cookie monster” noises you make when you are hungry and you first latch on.

I want to remember your not so tiny snores.

I want to remember the warmth of your body next to mine and the sweetness of your breathing when you are sleeping peacefully.

I want to remember the curl of your back as you drift off.

I want to remember your belly button sticking out way too far.

I want to remember the way you hold your pacifier in your mouth, but then end up popping it out with those same hands.

I want to remember all of you. How much I wanted you. How thankful we are that somehow you made it here to us.

I want to remember how full my heart is, and yet how it continues to fill with each breath you take.

I want to live in each of these moments. But I can’t wait to see what tomorrow, what next week, and what next year will bring.

We are so, so fortunate to have you.

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~ by Larisa on April 5, 2008.

No Responses Yet to “almost 3 months”

  1. That is the most beautiful thing. The raw love in it brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing.

  2. This is a truly beautifully written tribute to your daughter. Thank you for sharing something so personal. 🙂 She will be so lucky to read your words someday.

  3. You will be so glad you have written this down. Memories are so fleeting. I wish I remembered more about my son’s babyhood. – kristylynne

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