The words are so surreal, as this has been what feels like the longest year of my life. I look back and so many of the months are a blur. Sometimes I look back at my journals and think to myself "How in the world did we live through that?" I'm pretty sure I said it in my last blog, but I think it's okay to repeat that I wish babies were born at 10 months old. I loved different parts of the past twelve months, and Ella was always our greatest joy, but from ten months on... Bliss. It's an interesting thing, finally being at the "looking back" phase. Just three short months ago I was putting my nine month old in 12 month clothes, though 9 month clothes still fit fine. Today, I'm squeezing my twelve month old in 18 month, sad to know that she could probably wear 24 months comfortably. It's such a subtle and unrecognizable change... Somewhere in the past three months, I've transitioned from praying for an older baby to stumbling around the cliches of "growing too fast" and "wishing time would slow down." Her time with us has simultaneously been the shortest and quickest time of our lives, and for the first time, I can see how people look back and say "where did 18 years go?"
The wonderful thing about today is that my heart strings are tugging, but for the most part, I feel joy. I've avoided looking at the newborn pictures hanging in the entryway, and instead I hug a little tighter when my baby puts her head on my shoulder. She has been an outstanding infant, with only one visit to the doctor that wasn't a well check. She has had a healthy, thriving first year, and we are so thankful for it. She had tummy and teething issues like any other infant, but never colic and never multiple teeth at once. Her blocked tear duct proved troublesome, but we are working on week three of clear eyes, which leads me to believe that it has opened, meaning we will not need to pursue medical intervention. She has tackled milestones with ease, some on time (crawling,) some late (rolling over,) and some early (walking.) She is truly a light, full of joy and enthusiasm, and is thrilled to be near water. I am convinced more than ever that names play such a fun and crucial meaning. As you'll recall, Ella (in the translation we prefer) means "Bright Light" and Morgan (again, translation preferred) means "dwells by the water." I know in my own experiences, the sea is a beautiful reminder of the beauty and power and attention to detail that The Lord is capable of ... So hopefully she'll take that same attitude and run with it. And if she lives close to water, that's just a perk for me.
As we round out our first year, Ella has two teeth. I don't see any indications that another is close, but that's okay. It certainly makes nursing easier to deal with. While we're on that, my daughter nursed for the first 12 months of her life. That's is my greatest pride and accomplishment of motherhood thus far. Nursing is hard, inconvenient, and probably one of the more exhausting things I've ever done, but you could not pay me enough to go back and do things differently. All babies eat, and some are fed by formula, and that's okay, but it was important to me that my child was breastfed. My original plan was to wean immediately after her first birthday, but we're transitioning into a later plan. Right now, I hope to have her weaned by 18 months. Maybe it'll be sooner, maybe it'll be later, but I'm okay with whatever happens. We're working on "baby led" weaning and she's already dropped two feedings because of it, so who knows where the path will lead. The point is, I've gone the last twelve months as the "exception," meaning I found myself surrounded by formula feeders. I had one other friend who breastfed for as long as I did, and now I'm the only one left. It's awkward to breastfeed in public, and the dirty looks are hard to deal with, but I tried to be subtle about it, and for the most part, I adapted. My daughter's health has thrived. No prescription medications, no fevers, no ear infections, respiratory infections, or instances that landed us in the hospital. I don't believe it's a coincidence. I'm going to step off of my soapbox soon, because I know that different things work for different people, but I will advocate and be proud of the path that worked for us until I'm blue in the face.
We are so captivated by this tiny presence in our lives. We are amazed at her vocabulary already, which includes 14 words so far... maybe she's ahead, maybe she's behind. I don't read the books to know. She's so efficient at figuring things out, even if she throws the cutest fit in the process. She's so curious to learn how things work, and I hope that never changes. She laughs until she falls over backwards, sings along to whatever song she deems catchy, and screeches with glee when she sees her Daddy. We love to laugh at her reactions to various things, whether it be kissing her when she isn't expecting it, jumping out from behind a wall, or stealing a bite of her food at the last minute. She communicates with her eyebrows, whether that be burrowing, raising one, or both multiple times. Her best friend in the world is our dog Todd, and greets him every morning with a pat (slap) on the head and "HI, Todd! Hi! HI!" If we would let her, she would move outside and dwell there permanently. The root of her temper lies in making her come inside when it gets dark. I would say we are outside at LEAST 4 hours of each day. She loves yogurt, cheese, and goldfish. She tolerates most vegetables and fruits, but refuses to eat carrots. Absolutely loathes them. She's a nursing machine, which is going to be interesting come weaning time, but I don't fight her when she asks right now. She's figured out how the whole system works, so while it's funny at home, having your shirt lifted in public is something I don't recommend trying unless it's NOLA and Mardi Gras.
I think I can summarize the last 12 months in a phrase: You Adapt. Sometimes life makes sense, and sometimes it's just a big fat pain in the rear. Sometimes you're so thrilled to be in charge of human, and some days you look at your ghastly reflection and say "How in the world did I get here?" Some days you wish could be repeated over and over again, while other days go into the "PTSD" file. Most days, the child you expect isn't the child you get... sometimes that's a good thing, sometimes it's your demise. The days that require the most grace are the days that I find there's an issue with me that needs to be fixed. On the days that my curious infant chooses just the right moment to spill goldfish all over the floor, I usually laugh and make a game out of clean up. Though Sometimes, those goldfish are my demise, and I'm sent spiraling into a pit of "WHY did we pursue parenthood?" But we adapt. We recognize that Ella needs the same grace that the Father so lovingly bestows upon us. I am tired. I think I'm even more tired now that we sleep through the night than I was when we were in survival mode... but I adapt. I take a deep breath and sigh it back out before I get out of the bed every morning, but then I walk into a bedroom and find a blonde headed mess of hair grinning back at me, and I'm reminded that these are the moments I'll remember. I'll probably always guesstimate the milestones that carried us through the first year, or I might even have to look back at a baby book... but I'll never forget those teeth peeking through a grin. I'll think back and laugh at the way she said Thank you (Thas-chu!) I'll remember the look on her Daddy's face when he walks through the door every day, and the way she pats his back in the mornings when she's ready for him to wake up. I'll smile fondly at the way she puts her hands on my face before she falls asleep, the way she grins while she nurses, and of all the times that I chose to love on her instead of doing dishes. I'll remember the look on Alyssa's face the first time Ella laughed out loud for her. I'll hear the joy in my Daddy's voice the first time she said "PapPap." I'll remember her going potty on my mom every single time she bathed her. Joy. I look back over the last 365 days and I remember joy. Bless the Lord, O my soul, here come the tears. We knew that would happen at some point, right? Her first year was more than we could have hoped or imagined, and I mean that in the sincerest tone. We had some frustrating moments, but I think that's just life. The Lord is so Good to those who love him, and oh, do we love Him. We are so thankful for the sweet little love of our lives, and especially now that we're entering into more impressionable years, I hope that I take the time to stop and make sure Ella sees a reflection of Jesus in her Mama. Love. Joy. Peace and Patience. Kindness, goodness, Faithfulness. Gentleness and Self-control. Lord, Let it be.
So with our final disastrous socktopus picture, we conclude this particular blog series. I don't know for sure what that means for the blog, maybe I'll only write when inspiration hits... maybe I'll update every few months... I'm not totally sure. But I'm so thankful that you ventured down this road with us, because we have loved your support. See ya Next time!
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