My “baby” is fast approaching his third birthday at the end of this month. The sun has shone every June since he arrived into the world and at this time every year I find myself thinking “it was a beautiful day like this when my labour started and our baby was born.” It’s like it was only yesterday and yet, so long ago too. A friend sent me an old photo recently that she had on her phone from when he was about six months old, and I barely recognised those chubby cheeks and gorgeous rolls of fat.
Now he’s a tall, skinny little thing who’s main goal in life is to have “an adventure”. Be it one at the beach, the park or even the shops with his mam or dad; or our bed/submarine/ship escaping from the sharks and the giant waves. Our baby is a baby no more.
Helen at The Busy Mamas, and her wonderful linky on tales of parenting moments gone by, has got me thinking about those little moments of pregnancy and newborn days past, confined to nostalgic history. With the rosiest of tinted glasses, there are so many memories that make my heart sing and immediately calm me when I throw myself back there.
Once the Great Snow of 2010 and the Great Morning Sickness of the same time period passed, my memory of the rest of my pregnancy was that the sun shone everyday and the world was right. I’m sure it didn’t, but I can’t draw on any memory of a rainy day so that’s how history has been recorded! I loved being pregnant. I loved how my bump seemed to put people in a good mood. Women – virtually strangers – confided the most incredible, intimate stories of motherhood to me in hushed whispers, which in the absence of a bump I couldn’t imagine in a million years they’d ever share. I loved lying in bed at night with Himself, while we watched little hands and fists rolling across my belly.
I loved going to my pregnancy yoga class and being surrounded by other expectant mums. I loved my aquanatal aerobics instructor who used to crown a “Queen Bee” at every class – the woman who was most pregnant in the class that week. I remember being secretly thrilled when I wore the crown with pride on the day I was 41+1, not knowing at the time that I’d be holding my tiny baby boy in my arms the next day…
I remember the feeling of euphoria that lasted for weeks – months even – after I had given birth. Even on the darkest, longest, hardest nights, a little bit of that energy tingled under the surface, still in awe of my body, of my own strength.
The loveliest memories are of those quiet times. Yes, I remember the desperate, anxiety-filled times too. But those quiet times, when his big blue eyes locked with mine as we sat and nursed together. The mornings in the sun-filled kitchen, the afternoons on the couch with the Gilmore Girls in the background, the shadowed night-times. I found breastfeeding such a profound experience. It was both calming and connected. Peace and wellbeing washed over us both as he fed away. It was a source of nourishment, comfort and togetherness. I miss those days…
When you’re not living something right now, sometimes those events from the past feel like a dream. Just like thinking of them happening again sometime in the future feels intangible and just out of grasp… until it’s actually happening. But my, what wonderful, happy memories to feed the soul.
What do you miss about parenting moments gone by? Don’t forget to check out the rest of the bloggers taking part in the Busy Mama’s Linky.