baby thoughts
Before he was born things were perfect.
Before he was born it was always the right temperature, he was never hungry, he never had an uncomfortably dirty bum and no-one tried to force his arms into the very terrible sleeves. He was Stanley Bergman, ruler of the known universe. He gave all that up to be with us, so it seems really important to make sure he knows how very much he is Ioved. I try to remember this when he is unhappy and will not be soothed.
On the topic of remembering, it is remarkable to me to think that he will not remember any of this. He won't remember all the snuggles, silly songs, thing we did. We will. Us, the big people, we will remember this when, G-d willing, he is a teenager and beyond. All the sweet moments of him sleeping on my chest, delighting at the hairdryer or in the bath, the precious smell of his baby head, he will not remember. The memories are mine alone.
He also won't remember his dreams. I've read reports stating that babies dream before they are born. I am fascinated by what the dreams of a baby must be like. What is a dream without words? What is a dream before experience? What are the dreams of the unborn?
Sleeping. We often move him when he sleeps. Whether he is sleeping in our arms or the car seat, he often falls asleep in one place and wakes up in another. Apparently babies do not understand object permanence yet - does this make this more or less remarkable? Is it really always a surprise when he opens his eyes? Does this make it harder to develop object permanence?
It feels simultaneously like he has been here forever, and like he is absolutely bran new. I was looking at him the other day, marveling at him and loving him, and asked him "Where have you been my whole life?". The answer is that at least part of him has always been with me. If I was born with all the eggs I will ever have, the egg that became him has always been with me, and was a part of me for 34 years. Part of him has always been with me, and forever after, part of me will run around, independent in the world. This feels wonderful and sobering.
He's getting older. He's certainly longer than he was at birth, and he's gone from 10 pounds 5 ounces to 14 pounds 8 ounces. This morning, after bonking his head he cried real tears. The tears are new, and it makes him feel more like a kid.
I was going through hand-me-down clothes from good friends the other day and came across a maroon dress. It made me think - we don't have any femme clothes for him - we don't put him in dresses, or put ribbons in his hair. He had lots and lots and lots of cloths, but none of them femme. It's true we are dressing him in things we like, and neither of us wear femme clothes, but it feels like a failure. I would dress a girl-child in these clothes too, so I tell myself that this is less about gendering him and more about inflicting our taste on him, but I worry. we've said no to clothes that are loudly gendered boy, so saying no to clothes clearly gendered girl is not pushing him into the boy zone, but I think about this. I look forward to him asserting his own taste.
When I am out and about random people ask me "Is he a good baby?". I hate this question. He's six weeks old and the idea of calling him good or bad seems heartbreaking. My initial answer was "He's certainly good at being a baby." but that seems to suggest that he's not good at something, "He's great." seems arrogant. I continue to hate this question.
Just a few baby thoughts.
Before he was born it was always the right temperature, he was never hungry, he never had an uncomfortably dirty bum and no-one tried to force his arms into the very terrible sleeves. He was Stanley Bergman, ruler of the known universe. He gave all that up to be with us, so it seems really important to make sure he knows how very much he is Ioved. I try to remember this when he is unhappy and will not be soothed.
On the topic of remembering, it is remarkable to me to think that he will not remember any of this. He won't remember all the snuggles, silly songs, thing we did. We will. Us, the big people, we will remember this when, G-d willing, he is a teenager and beyond. All the sweet moments of him sleeping on my chest, delighting at the hairdryer or in the bath, the precious smell of his baby head, he will not remember. The memories are mine alone.
He also won't remember his dreams. I've read reports stating that babies dream before they are born. I am fascinated by what the dreams of a baby must be like. What is a dream without words? What is a dream before experience? What are the dreams of the unborn?
Sleeping. We often move him when he sleeps. Whether he is sleeping in our arms or the car seat, he often falls asleep in one place and wakes up in another. Apparently babies do not understand object permanence yet - does this make this more or less remarkable? Is it really always a surprise when he opens his eyes? Does this make it harder to develop object permanence?
It feels simultaneously like he has been here forever, and like he is absolutely bran new. I was looking at him the other day, marveling at him and loving him, and asked him "Where have you been my whole life?". The answer is that at least part of him has always been with me. If I was born with all the eggs I will ever have, the egg that became him has always been with me, and was a part of me for 34 years. Part of him has always been with me, and forever after, part of me will run around, independent in the world. This feels wonderful and sobering.
He's getting older. He's certainly longer than he was at birth, and he's gone from 10 pounds 5 ounces to 14 pounds 8 ounces. This morning, after bonking his head he cried real tears. The tears are new, and it makes him feel more like a kid.
I was going through hand-me-down clothes from good friends the other day and came across a maroon dress. It made me think - we don't have any femme clothes for him - we don't put him in dresses, or put ribbons in his hair. He had lots and lots and lots of cloths, but none of them femme. It's true we are dressing him in things we like, and neither of us wear femme clothes, but it feels like a failure. I would dress a girl-child in these clothes too, so I tell myself that this is less about gendering him and more about inflicting our taste on him, but I worry. we've said no to clothes that are loudly gendered boy, so saying no to clothes clearly gendered girl is not pushing him into the boy zone, but I think about this. I look forward to him asserting his own taste.
When I am out and about random people ask me "Is he a good baby?". I hate this question. He's six weeks old and the idea of calling him good or bad seems heartbreaking. My initial answer was "He's certainly good at being a baby." but that seems to suggest that he's not good at something, "He's great." seems arrogant. I continue to hate this question.
Just a few baby thoughts.