Time. It’s fleeting. So fast. One day, two days, three. It has no cares. No preferences. No judgement. No sympathy.
When we were in the hospital I longed to see us at three months out. Five months out. A year. With this baby I was going to relish in every waking moment with her, and now I just wanted it to all pass away until these hard days were just a faded memory. When we got to go home, our kids had a soccer tournament in cincy and daddy had to go without us (Mar and me). When they got home it was back to work, school, and practice. Monotonous. Consistent. Day in and day out. As much I wanted to remember every detail of those days, truth is I was struggling to remember anything beyond what Marley’smedical needs were. Mommy brain I guess. But time passed faster than I thought it could and now she’s almost a year. It flew.
When she was about 7 months old we had a Dr apt that I thought was going to change her future. Finally a surgery that put her hand in a “normal” position. I admit I clung to this vision of my little girl not being physically different- kids can be observationally cruel and I felt terrified. That appointment didn’t go as planned. No surgery. Wait. Back to waiting for time to pass. Longing for a plan. I plan. Type A personality. And yet, this is completely out of my- dare I say “hands”. Doc says take your baby home. Live. Let’s regroup in four months. I cried the next day and let it all out. This pressure I didn’t even know I was carrying. I didn’t think for once about her medical worries. I didn’t think of Tylenol. Of her crying as what may be pain. I didn’t think. We left it all out there that day and came through it a different family. We took our baby home and settled into our monotonous days and haven’t looked back since.
Time hasn’t stopped moving, but I write more, and take an extra second to stare back at her when she catches my eyes. Or when my older tells me a story. Or my younger shows me something, anything, everything!! I don’t think I’ll ever stop trying to slow it down. Or speed it up when it’s hard. Time can’t ever make me happy- but I’d like to believe I have the best memories. Even if they still make me cry from time to time.
When we were in the hospital I longed to see us at three months out. Five months out. A year. With this baby I was going to relish in every waking moment with her, and now I just wanted it to all pass away until these hard days were just a faded memory. When we got to go home, our kids had a soccer tournament in cincy and daddy had to go without us (Mar and me). When they got home it was back to work, school, and practice. Monotonous. Consistent. Day in and day out. As much I wanted to remember every detail of those days, truth is I was struggling to remember anything beyond what Marley’smedical needs were. Mommy brain I guess. But time passed faster than I thought it could and now she’s almost a year. It flew.
When she was about 7 months old we had a Dr apt that I thought was going to change her future. Finally a surgery that put her hand in a “normal” position. I admit I clung to this vision of my little girl not being physically different- kids can be observationally cruel and I felt terrified. That appointment didn’t go as planned. No surgery. Wait. Back to waiting for time to pass. Longing for a plan. I plan. Type A personality. And yet, this is completely out of my- dare I say “hands”. Doc says take your baby home. Live. Let’s regroup in four months. I cried the next day and let it all out. This pressure I didn’t even know I was carrying. I didn’t think for once about her medical worries. I didn’t think of Tylenol. Of her crying as what may be pain. I didn’t think. We left it all out there that day and came through it a different family. We took our baby home and settled into our monotonous days and haven’t looked back since.
Time hasn’t stopped moving, but I write more, and take an extra second to stare back at her when she catches my eyes. Or when my older tells me a story. Or my younger shows me something, anything, everything!! I don’t think I’ll ever stop trying to slow it down. Or speed it up when it’s hard. Time can’t ever make me happy- but I’d like to believe I have the best memories. Even if they still make me cry from time to time.
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