How Long Will I [Desperately] Hold On To Ada Verastic?

Something crazy is happening to me, and although I have not discussed it with any moms, I have a feeling that I’m not alone. First of all, I want to mention that Ada Verastic is an incredibly blessed child, and I know I may be biased because I’m a wee bit related to her, but honestly, this kid is blessed. Although we did not find out her gender before we had her, it did not stop the flood of girl baby gifts from knocking us down when people finally found out that we had a girl. Also, she’s 14 months now and we still have NOT purchased diapers or wipes. Thank you, friends and family!

Igwe and I have barely bought clothes for her. I know that when she was a tiny little human, I bought her white onesies, socks, bibs, receiving blankets (we bought way too many!), and a few clothes here and there, like the dress she wore for her naming ceremony. She had (still has) so many clothes that we have been giving so many away – both used and brand new.

Some people have advised that we stop giving away so many of her clothes because what if we have another baby girl? First of all, I want confusingly identical twin boys next, and secondly, if we have another girl, she will have lots of clothes from her big sister, and she will also have her own new stuff.

The point, in this oddly emotional post, is that Ada Verastic’s sock drawer has been full of socks that no longer fit. I have bought her socks that fit, and she has even received some as gifts, and she has been wearing them, but I have been having a TOUGH time packing those initial socks away. They’re so little and precious, and they remind me of so much: my entry into motherhood. The emotions and fear and vulnerability I felt that period. My baby, too tiny to hold her own head up. My caesarean section scar pain. My back still hurting from the epidural. The tears I shed. The prayers I sent up to God. Did I mention my fear already? So yes, I have refused to pack them away.

But every time I try to put socks on her now, it’s a challenge because I have to sort through the socks that fit and the ones that don’t fit. And it’s become annoying every time, and I curse a little curse under my breath, and I promise that tomorrow, I will clear this drawer. Tomorrow finally came the other day, and while I threw her socks into a new ziplock bag – I’m never giving them away – I burst into tears.

My baby is growing too damn fast! Only yesterday she was a little 8 pounder, and she sank into all her clothes because they were all too big for her, and she slept most of the day, and her cry was a newborn-baby cry. Now, she walks. She even talks. Sure, you can’t have a meaningful conversation with her yet, but she cannot fit into those clothes that she once seemed to swim in. I’m so grateful that she’s growing and maturing and becoming more beautiful by the second, but CAN. TIME. PLEASE. SLOW. DOWN?  

She may be 14 months old, but I still consider myself a new mom, and it might be till her wedding night before I stop considering myself a new mom. Because she’s my baby. And even when she’s no longer a baby, she will still be my baby.

While I mourn the too-fast growth of my baby, I am remembering to be in the moment, to enjoy her where she is now because I know that too-soon in the future, I will long for where she is now. And then I wonder what it has been like for my mommy. In my three decades on earth, has she felt this way every single day? True story: as I wrote that last sentence about my mommy, I buried my face in my hands and wept.

I know it isn’t Mother’s Day, but to moms all over the world, YOU. ARE. AMAZING.