“Why do you always kiss her every time you pick her up?” Chris asked me the other day. “You are smothering her!”
I told my night nurse and my friend this the other night when Chris was away at a hotel in his Covid bubble. My night nurse laughed and rolled her eyes. She responded, “She is your baby. You can kiss her however much you would like. There is no such thing as kissing your baby too much!!“
It’s true. I kiss Kaia every single time I pick her up. I tell her she’s my sweet baby as I give her multiple kisses, rock her, and hold her close to me. She’s my life’s greatest gift. Every time I look at her and hold her, I thank God for my sweet baby after all the trials and tribulations I went through to conceive of and give birth to her. I also remember that so many other families have spent longer periods of time trying to conceive and still have not succeeded, and I really feel for them. Not everyone is as lucky and blessed as I am. And with that, I always kiss my baby to remind myself and her of our good fortune.
Today, my baby turned 12 weeks old. It’s cliché, but I really cannot believe how quickly time flies. It feels like it was just yesterday when I had the most excruciating pain of my life being in labor with her, pushing her out of my body, and taking her tiny little self home in a huge car seat from the hospital. This time last year, I was mentally and physically getting ready for my embryo transfer with the one embryo that made it, the little embryo that could, as I liked to call her. While I had hoped and dreamed that this time this year, I would be able to have her in my arms, it has been surreal to think that this actually became my reality.
Motherhood has been full of ups and downs, but mostly ups. I have been blessed with a tiny little human who is a great eater and sleeper, who has easy-to-read signs and is slowly but surely showing bits of her personality. The biggest down, of course, has been pumping milk around the clock for her, as it has definitely tested my mental toughness as well as my physical ability in terms of keeping my nipples comfortable, but I see it as a temporary mother’s sacrifice for my sweet baby. I look forward to her every smile and hearing her laugh, as well as seeing all her other upcoming developmental milestones. But I love even just the little things: smelling her, rubbing my nose against hers, listening to her little grunts and squeals as she stirs before waking up, watching her sleep (she has the cutest little smiles while sleeping… not to mention her tiny night terrors). I love her more than words can express.