Right now, it feels like I'll never forget the first three weeks of Oliver's life, and my introduction to motherhood. There was Oliver's birth. The way he smells. How he feels curled up in my arms to eat or sleep and the faces he makes while he does so. But I am pretty sure I will eventually forget a lot of details. And oh, I love him so much.
It's hard to summarize the past few weeks neatly. I can barely remember life before Oliver. Sometimes I love every single thing, even the sleepless nights and constant feedings feel like perfection and I am so lucky to have this baby. Then I worry about everything - is he eating too much, or not enough, why doesn't he sleep, should we start a bedtime routine, a million questions and anxieties. Sometimes it is 3 am and he's asleep in my arms and I try to put him in his bassinet to sleep, instead, and he wakes up and cries and so do I because all I want is sleep. But then I hand him to Sam or one of his grandparents and suddenly I miss him and when I get him back I want to hold him all night long and memorize his features and the faces he makes in his sleep.
He is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I am just so happy. I will probably forever miss his newborn days (even as I look forward to all the milestones to come) so I am doing my best to soak them in, and give his impossibly soft cheeks several extra kisses, just because I can.
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