{Lesson Learned from a First Time Mom} Time Is Fast

I've learned a lot since becoming a mom. Besides the obvious skills it takes to keep a child alive (every morning Michael and I congratulate ourselves that we've all survived another day), there are other things I've gradually learned as well.

One main epiphany I've had since Maylin was born is how extremely fast time goes by. Babies change at a rapid speed. Like, lightening fast. I swear, every morning Maylin wakes up she looks different from the day before. This is something that nobody ever told me about; it's something I've come to realize on my own.

I distinctly remember the first moment I came to this realization. Maylin was three days old. We had been home from the hospital for about 24 hours, and it was bedtime. I use the term "bedtime" loosely, because bedtime in those early days was extremely relative. At any rate, it was the time of night that Michael and I were used to going to bed (pre-baby), around 10:00 PM. We were sitting in her nursery, no lights on but her tiny lamp. I was rocking and M was sitting on the ottoman. We were both still pretty awestruck over our tiny babe, so we were content sitting there in relative quiet, sometimes commenting softly about one thing or another. In one of the silent moments, I remember looking at sleeping Maylin and realizing how distinctly different she looked this night from the night before. Tears sprung to my eyes as I thought, "Maylin will never look the same as she does now. Three-day-old-Maylin is almost gone; tomorrow she'll be four-day-old-Maylin with new looks, new skills, a new level of awareness." I spoke that truth to Michael around a lump in my throat, and the tears started to fall.

I've so enjoyed watching Maylin change and grow, and deep down I'm glad she is since that is the natural and normal course of life. I wouldn't want her to be "stuck" in one place for too long. But there are times when I notice her doing a new thing, making a new sound or a new facial expression, and my heart clinches just a tiny little bit. Partly because of happiness, and partly because of sadness, because I know she's growing up.

So, the point of the story is, I've learned to grasp each tiny little moment, each little movement, each little mountain she climbs in her journey toward toddler-hood, and gather them together in a mosaic of my mind.

Time goes by fast. I want to cherish these little treasures of her baby days. So if the phone rings and I don't answer, if the laundry sits on the couch for a day or so, if the due date for the library books comes and goes, it's all okay...

I'm just wringing out all the moments I can from one-hundred-forty-four-day-old-Maylin.