Dear Finlay
This week, I’ve found myself waking up in the wee hours of the morning.
Not due to insomnia, needing water or having to use the bathroom—usually the case. But to peek into the bassinet and watch you, sleeping peacefully. Considering I’m still pumping every few hours and you’ve only just started sleeping for 6-hour stretches at night—Daddy and I swore it was a fluke the first night, but you’ve surprised us, night after night. I sit there and watch your fingers curl into tiny fists and you purse your lips. Sometimes you laugh—the first time you did it, I thought you were possessed. Most times you snore—like your father—or you chat to yourself a bit, before falling back to sleep. I can only imagine the tiny dreams making your eyelids flutter. Each night, I’ve been tempted to pick you up and bring you into bed for a quick cuddle. Soon you will be in your own room, so I know these days are numbered, which makes it harder to resist the urge. My own need for sleep has kept me from bringing you into our bed—that and knowing you’d eventually wake. So I sit and watch, and eventually return to my own dreams.
My maternity leave ends today and moments like these—these tiny newborn moments of quiet—will be non-existent and swallowed up by the stress of returning to my 9-to-5. I’m looking forward to returning to a semblance of normalcy. Driving to work (well…maybe not so much as gas is crazy expensive), office banter, using my brain and not just sitting on the couch and counting the hours since your last feed, and finding worth in a professional setting. Even if things were different and I had the option to stay home, I don’t think I would. I have to go back to work, but I also need to go back to work—for me.
This time with you—and your brother—has been so precious. And I’ve enjoyed it in a way I didn’t think I would. Thank you, my baby Fin—my last baby. For reminding me how magical the newborn stage can be. If you ever read this blog, you’ll see that I was scared for your arrival. Emotionally, I was not in the greatest of places in the weeks leading up to your birth. But those fears of inadequacies and stretched resources were unfounded because you have been a dream baby. My dream. Not to say you’ve been perfect—you have your moments, especially when you’re hungry or need to poop—but those moments are so fleeting and far between. And my maternity leave has been leaps and bounds better this time around—largely because we could leave the house and your Daddy and I sort of know what we’re doing. Last time, I was clawing at my skin in anticipation for my return to work. I couldn’t wait for it to be over. This time is different. I had a summer of playdates and watching your brother grow into an rambunctious, talkative toddler, all while keeping you happy and safe. This extra one-on-one time with your brother has been an added bonus, one that I’m additionally thankful for.
I’ll miss you, my baby Fin. And your brother Wyatt. I’ll miss our morning snuggles; you cuddled up against me, gripping my t-shirt as you curl in close. The way your body would instantly relax in my arms and you’d fall right back to sleep. Once awake, all I have to do is make eye contact with you and your face lights up with a smile; I instantly melt beneath that smile. I’ll miss bringing Wyatt downstairs for breakfast and his daily, “Morning, Baby Nin!” once he sees you. I hope you always have that bond. I’ll miss planning our days out—going to a local pool, meeting up with your cousins, trips to the grocery store or playground. And I’ll miss spending every waking second with you and watching you grow—seriously kid, you’re HUGE. Marmie and Poppy are SO EXCITED to watch you, and your brother will be right by your side. Sharing you with others is never easy, but we are so lucky your grandparents are up for the challenge. And I’m just a Facetime call away.
Who knew a 3-month old could teach you so much about yourself? But you have. You’ve taught me that I’m enough and I’m capable of so much more than I thought. And I’m so lucky that you are mine. Forever and ever.
Love Always,
Mummy
PS—your Daddy is pretty amazing, too. He went above and beyond to make sure I wasn’t overburdened with watching both you and your brother all summer. You had almost every bottle in his office and became a mainstay on his daily work calls. Our collective patience was tested quite a few times, but we made it through. Our family wouldn’t have survived without him. We are lucky.