I can't believe it's May already. May 27th to be exact. Nearly a month has passed since I've shared a blog post (more like journal entry), I think to myself, as I sprawl out on our sturdy wooden bench at the dining room table. The cool, smooth surface of the wood feels refreshing against my skin. Coupled with this quiet moment, I breathe deeply and relax.
My body instinctively tenses as I hear a few tiny squeaks from the safari-themed baby bouncer to my right. I notice my body clenching; I'm feeling hopeful and yet realistic about what will happen next. Is she going to wake up? Or continue sleeping? My window of opportunity for accomplishing small tasks (i.e eating a meal, paying bills, folding laundry, or loading the dishwasher) is quickly closing, as baby girl's cute squeaks transition into shrieks and crying. Ruby wants to be held close, so I put down my lunch plate of warm veggie pasta, in all its savory goodness, and cuddle with her on the couch. Cuddling turns into nursing, and then napping - napping on mama's chest. An hour or two passes, and I try to maneuver my way off the recliner with a sleeping baby in my arms. She immediately senses that I'm trying to put her down and crying ensues.
And we are now back to cuddling.
From what I've read and heard, this is a phase - a sweet, albeit exhausting phase - where baby girl wants to be held all the time. On any given day, this will include 5-10 minutes here and there of playtime, called "Tummy Time," where baby girl is placed on her stomach and practices lifting her head and legs. It's a form of strength-training. Ruby typically likes the first few minutes of Tummy Time and then wants to be held again. I also try to hoist her around in our baby carrier front-pack, but unless I time it for right after a feeding, she freaks out and tries to nurse, despite whatever I am wearing. Thankfully, she is starting to enjoy her bouncer chair more often, and as part of my daily routine, I set her in there while I race around the kitchen compiling snacks or throwing together a meal. She can see me and that works for a short time.
Ah, the life of a brand-new mom. My days are structured around Ruby: nursing her, changing diapers, encouraging naps, and baby playtime. All these responsibilities are new to me, and I'm trying to balance them gracefully. There are moments when I remember what life was like before Ruby: sleeping in on the weekend - or just sleeping in general, preparing extravagant home-cooked meals and desserts for Ken and company, and hosting friends and family on a regular basis. Our house was well-kept most of the time, and clean laundry didn't pile up in the dryer for days (or weeks) on end. Ken and I made plans and were consistent in them.
My how times have changed. In this season of acclimating to a baby at home, I sense that God is growing my ability to hold things loosely. I no longer plan things with such definitive expectations. Mostly, I verbalize my desires with a keen awareness that something could change - my days are currently centered around taking care of my baby. A baby who is tender and reliant on Ken and me for everything. We are her world right now. (Well, us and the wild, black-and-white creature named "Penny" who likes to lick her face.)
As I adjust to all these things, I think about how beautiful and unique this time in my life is, where I have the opportunity to be at home with Ruby. I get to watch her grow and develop. I treasure her gentle heart, energetic spirit, and curiosity about the space around her. I'm her mom and she feels safe with me. Our home is a place of joy and hope and life. In truth, it also a place of challenge, as I juggle my new role of mother as well as wife and friend. At times, I have to remind myself that only in taking good care of my health and wellness, am I then able to take care of others. There's a reason why, when traveling on an airplane, emergency protocol dictates that parents are to put the oxygen masks on themselves first, before placing one on their child. I didn't understand this concept as a teenager, in hearing it broadcast over the plane's intercom. Only years later, through counseling, did I recognize the incredibly helpful metaphor that is for my life. In order to help others, it's best for me to operate from a place of strength. The strength that God provides, especially when I feel weak and exhausted and overwhelmed - strength I choose to pursue by practicing peace and rest, which looks very different in this season but is still just as important.
Savoring the small things. Like steaming hot showers, crisp bed linens, freshly vacuumed carpets, and soothing cups of tea. As well as celebrating the nights when we are blessed with a few hours of interrupted sleep. These are examples of how God is renewing my spirit and equipping me with endurance for this journey of motherhood. I find it interesting that in learning how to take care of Ruby, I'm also learning how to better take care of myself.
On that note, I better head out. I hear soft squeaks coming from Ruby's direction. She needs her mama.
