Tag Archives: Letter to Matthew

Bittersweet Changes

Dear Sweet Matthew,

When Katie was a baby, I delayed solids until I felt increasing  pressure from others to introduce her to cereal.  I held my ground until she was 8 months old, when I caved because her pediatrician suggested that I have her iron levels tested.  The thought of a blood draw was enough for me to cringe and immediately introduce her to cereal. 

Though she liked eating and did well, I have always second guessed that decision and wondered if I should have held out a bit longer.  Before you were born, I decided that I would wait until you were 12 months old to begin solids. 

For the past couple of weeks, you have been wanting to nurse every two hours and have seemed truly unsettled after nursing.  You have also begun waking up at 5:30 every morning to nurse.  You’ve been crying so often and lunging for me, hoping to eat.

So, after a great deal of internal debate, we did this:

And you absolutely loved it. 

You get so excited when we place you in your high chair.  You smile between every bite and you are happier throughout the entire day.  You were hungry and it breaks my heart that my determination to make it to a certain date kept me from doing what was right for you earlier than I did. 

As much as I know that you were ready for solids, I can’t express how sad it makes me.  You are quite possibly our last baby and with each milestone that you reach, you are less my baby. 

Nursing is such an emotional experience, one that unites us in such an amazing way.  And if I’m honest, I have to admit that I like that I have been giving you something that no one else could.  We never gave you a bottle, so every single bit of your nourishment up to this point has come directly from me. 

You were 8 months and 12 days old when you first had cereal. 

And for 8 months and 12 days, I could look at you and know that it was my milk that helped you to grow and to thrive.

I love you, Matthew, and I am so grateful for the connection that we have.  I promise to always do what is best for you, even if it isn’t the easy choice for me.

With love and snuggles,

Mommy

Add to FacebookAdd to DiggAdd to Del.icio.usAdd to StumbleuponAdd to RedditAdd to BlinklistAdd to TwitterAdd to Technorati

Advertisements

20 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

So That You May Know Her…

Dear Katie and Matthew,

Your grandmother is lying in a hospital bed tonight and she is dying. Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, but very soon.

Daddy is with her, holding her hand and telling her just how much we all love her.

Neither of you will remember her and that breaks my heart.

There is so much about her that I want you both to know.

She was dynamic. She could quote Shakespeare, discuss philosophy, and sing and play the guitar. Daddy tells a childhood story of camping with her–he remembers her sweet voice singing over the crackling of the campfire. I wish I could have heard that.  I wish you could have heard that.

She was eclectic. I will never forget the outfit she wore to your Uncle Todd’s graduation. She was dressed from head to toe in the most vibrant shade of turquoise, complete with floppy hat and arms adorned with bangle bracelets that just sparkled in the sunlight. She was lit from within in that wild outfit and it suited her beautifully.

She was intelligent. She was a well-respected trauma nurse who pursued her education while raising three young boys. She saw so much in her days as a nurse that made her even more compassionate and empathetic.

She was kind. She was quick to tell you why you were special to her. She was so generous with her words and never missed an opportunity to tell you exactly what made you unique. Sometimes, she would make me blush with her compliments, but I always appreciated and welcomed them.

She was whimsical. She loved astrology and loved to tell you what your sign meant and how it impacted you. Daddy and I would roll our eyes, but that didn’t stop her–she believed it and it was endearing.

She was the most optimistic person I’ve ever known. Her glass, even in the most difficult of times, was always half full. When life dealt her a terrible hand, she found inner strength that astonished us.

She will live on in your daddy, who is the man that he is because of her. She taught him to be a gentleman, to be kind and courteous. It was from her that he learned how to treat women and how to respect others.

I want you each to know that she loved you. She was so happy to have grandchildren and you made her just light up. She exuded happiness when she spoke of all of the fun that you would have with her as you grew and I’m so sorry that you won’t have that opportunity. She would have caused all sorts of fun trouble with you.  She truly looked forward to being, in her words, “your partner in crime.”

I am so truly sorry that you didn’t have the opportunity to know her.

I promise to share all of my stories with you. I will do all that I can to keep her alive in my memory so that I can share her with you both.

She has had such a rough time of it. Now it is time for us to wish her peace.

With all of my love,
Mommy

34 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

A Letter of Love to My Sweet Son

Dear Matthew,

As impossible as it is to believe, you are six months old today.  A friend once said about the passage of time that the days may drag on, but the years fly by, and I’m finding that to be so painfully true.We had some truly difficult times in those early months, days where we both cried too often, but we are now finding our rhythm and I am grateful for each moment that I have with you.  I look at you now and cannot believe that we had such a rough beginning.

Since you were finally diagnosed with and treated for acid reflux, you are a remarkably different baby.  Gone are the days of incessant crying, shrieking, back arching, and vomiting.  You now smile, you play, you sleep, and you hug.  I am sorry that it took us so long to find you some relief, my sweet boy.

You now sit independently and your huge, toothless grin shows just how proud of yourself you are.  You light up when Katie comes near and you can’t get enough of her hugs and kisses.  You are also trying desperately to figure out how to crawl and if I’m honest, I hope you wait a bit.

There are several small and precious moments in the day when it is just the two of us and I find myself staring at you in awe.  I can’t believe my good fortune to have you as my son.

I look into your beautiful baby eyes and I wonder how you see me.  Do you see how saddened I am that we had such a rough start?   Do you see how I smile at the mere sight of you? Can you possibly even begin to imagine just how much I adore you?

I touch your cute little ears and I wonder why it is that you love my singing.  (You are truly the only one who does.)

I look at your sweet mouth and eagerly await the sound of you calling out my name.  The sound of your laughter brightens my days, sweet boy.

I hold your tiny baby hands and find it impossible to imagine that one day your hand will dwarf mine.  I am so grateful for your touch, the way you rub my face in the sweetest way, as though you are trying to tell me something important.

I tickle your chubby little legs and hope that you have them for a while, since you are our last baby and I can’t bear the thought of you growing.

I look at your tiny feet and yummy baby toes and can’t believe just how perfect you are.

You are a joy, Matthew.  You are delicious and happy and above all, you are a true blessing.

I love you,
Mommy

Add to FacebookAdd to DiggAdd to Del.icio.usAdd to StumbleuponAdd to RedditAdd to BlinklistAdd to TwitterAdd to Technorati

12 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized