Dear Reese,
Last August, I wrote a poem. You were under two months old. I meant to share it the other week, on its anniversary, but I’ll share it now to illustrate what changes a year brings. On the whole, we sleep now, baby girl.
August 9, 2024 - 8:27 PM Some evenings it snags you The exhaustion that’s always on your heels In the past eight weeks, you can count on one hand the times you’ve slept four hours uninterrupted And have three fingers to spare But when you hold her in your lap she smiles And sticks out her tongue And who cares if she’ll cry for fifteen minutes later and then take an hour to fall asleep? You put her on her playmat and she rolls from stomach to back An accident or another milestone Either way, it’s a small miracle Unlike these mundane specters –You’re tired, you want to shower You wish she would sleep– Like flies buzzing around something holy It’s all part of the melody A symphony of time passing you by too quickly And one day you’ll wake up at two a.m. And wish you could still hold her in your arms
Love,
Mama