Last March I was watching the clock and unable to walk to the kitchen without feeling the uncomfortable jabs and pains that were Ameliaâ€™s in utero Morse code for, â€œMommy, Iâ€™m going to bungee jump out of your womb if you donâ€™t let me out soon!â€ I had officially begun maternity leave February 28. I was convinced I would go into labor before my scheduled c-section on March 12, after all that was just three days before I would hit the 40-week mark and Iâ€™d gone into labor with Caitlin at 38 weeks. Physically and mentally I was prepared to meet our newest baby girl. The nursery was readyâ€”the changing table was stocked with those newborn diapers that seem unbelievably tiny when you unfold them. Iâ€™d washed several loads of laundry, from onesies decorated with bunnies and flowers to socks to soft blankets and infant gowns. Although I could have easily put Ameliaâ€™s things in the dryer, I hung most everything up on a wooden drying rack outside. I loved to see the blur of pink each time I walked by our patio doors. The infant carseat, long outgrown by Caitlin, was installed in my car for the trip home from the hospital. Weâ€™d purchased a gift for Caitlin from Ameliaâ€”a toy picnic set that we would have waiting for her at the hospital to open when she would meet her sister for the first time.
Iâ€™ve been working on Ameliaâ€™s baby book this week. Putting things down in writing is bringing back a flood of memories. Itâ€™s amazing how fast the past year has gone by and how easy it is to forget the small details. Not necessarily the first words or first steps, but the newness of a baby and the way they look and smell and feel. The way their legs curl up and their wrinkly pink toes and the little grunting noises they make when they are waking. In a blink, Amelia is nearly walking and talking. I try to grasp on to the quiet moments that come in the midst of lifeâ€™s crazinessâ€¦the times when I am rocking her and I look down at her sweet face full of contentment and I know in my heart these precious times are dwindling. I want to grab on to those last remnants of her newborn days for as long as I can. I know they wonâ€™t always seem as familiar and near, but Iâ€™ll never forget them.