Yesterday my munchkin turned 9-months old. And it feels like the beginning of the end of her babyhood.
During the last few weeks she has gone through developmental leaps and bounds, it seems. She’s learned how to move her body in new ways and understands she has more control than she once did or believed she did. Just this weekend she learned she can use us to pull herself up to standing.
She’s interacting and communicating in new ways including waving and giving me toys to put into my mouth. “What a good sharer!” I exclaim enthusiastically as I bite down on a saliva filled bug toy.
She’s also gone through a hell of a growth spurt. She acted like she was famished and depleted ounce after ounce of precious breast milk. And for a mama losing her milk supply, this was a very difficult week.
We’ve also had some momentous occasions this past month. Her first trip on an airplane was a pretty big feat! For her but mainly really for us. Because traveling with a baby takes some gumption. She also went swimming for the first time. She really loved it! And it makes me want to sign up for those water baby classes.
The Beginning of the End
With all this in mind today, the day after her 9-month mark, feels like the day her babyhood started to end.
Two things happened today to bring on a sense of mourning for myself and her father.
After 6 months of teething, it finally happened. This morning she bit down on my hand while she was doing her standing trick and I felt a sharp little tingle that wasn’t there yesterday. Sure enough, her first tooth is cutting through. Finally!!! At the same time, NOOOOO!!!!
Her development is one thing, but my own body is also signaling this transition. As stated, my milk supply has dropped due to pumping at work combined with her changing eating habits. Can we say squirreled?? Today marked the first day of supplementing due to running out of freezer stash.
Boy does that make me sad. And I’m still doing what I can to increase my supply. But as my hormones regulate, I continue to pump at work over nursing, and she eats more solid foods, I fear it won’t ever be the same.
This transition is one of the biggest major changes in my parenting journey so far. And I would imagine it’s a big one for all parents.
The beginning of the end of babyhood.
With this child I will never again have a tiny infant that lays content in my arms because, in this moment, there is only me. Never again will I look at her and be greeted with a big toothless grin. Never again can I plop her down and not worry about her causing some injury to herself from her awkward mobility. Never again will she nurse peacefully in my arms. Never again will she be so tiny and fragile where her entire body fits on my chest.
I will miss those times with my first born dearly. And if we do wind up having another child, I’ll look forward to these times again. But I also know they will feel different. That baby will be different. Our circumstances will be different. I’ll be different.
But what an adventure I have ahead with my munchkin. I’m not sure all of what lies ahead but I know it’ll leave my feet tired and my heart full.
Until then I’ll be enjoying the last days of her gummy smile while she holds mama’s hands as she learns to take her first steps.