5 Months

5 months wasn't always a length of time that was at all noteworthy or important. Until I was pregnant. Then 5 months meant that I was more than half way through my pregnancy. It meant that we were more than half way to meeting our little girl. And now, 5 months means eating solid foods, almost sitting up, and reaching out for mama. It means sipping water from mama and daddy's cup, blowing raspberries, and froggy kicks at bath time.  Teething rings and drooly kisses. Five months means seeing the world with different eyes and waking up each morning with an overflowing heart.  

On October 16, I woke up to a smiling five month old. As with every new month... let's be honest, every new day, I took lots of pictures. 

(If lots and lots of pictures of bright-eyed, drooly babies aren't your thing, you may want to skip this post!)

Five months means lots or rolling, wiggling and reaching for the camera, so most of them came out like this...

But I'm okay with it. In fact, I love these blurry images of my curious baby =)

Five months also means freedom. Freedom to take our bird out for little adventures without so much worry and concern for nursing times, fussing or baby meltdowns (which often resulted in my own little meltdowns). I've been waiting for these adventures...

Walks to the tiki bar...

 Look, no car seat. Our girl's growing...

Trips to my favorite park...

And boat rides to the Sound...

Sound asleep on the ride home.

When I think about how much life has changed in 5 months, I am simply amazed. I used to day dream about what life would be like with Emerson in our lives. Mostly, I saw little snapshots. Holding our girl and swaying to the sounds of music. Laying on a blanket in the shade. Morning walks and rocking her to sleep. Of course nothing could have prepared me for how much love I would feel for her. Or for how difficult becoming parents would be. The truth is sometimes I miss the old me. The old us. Going out to dinner and taking our time, talking  over a second glass of wine (or maybe a second dirty martini). Late nights out with friends. Dancing and laughing into the early hours of the morning. A more spontaneous and carefree life. 

Five months ago, Jared and I dove head first into the unknown waters of parenthood and although some days seem like we're swimming against the current, all in all, I would say we've done a pretty dang good job of keeping afloat. Emerson is, as my mom once put it, thriving, and fills up each of our days with so much joy and wonder. We've found our groove, our rhythm as parents and although we're still learning (we'll always be learning) we are mostly like-minded in our parenting which just feels good.

I can remember talking to my dearest of friends, Rachael shortly after Emerson was born. Jared referred to me as me "mommy" and in my post delivery, very hormonal state, I walked into our bedroom and cried. "I'm not his mommy." I thought. "I'm his wife." In an instant, I felt that in gaining the gift of motherhood, I had lost the role of being a wife. Rachael then related a story about how after their first child was born, she and her husband would be so busy giving their all to their son that the day would come to an end and they would jokingly say to each other "Oh, hello honey. Nice to see you. How was your day?" 

It's not just us any more. And although there is no doubt in my mind that being a mama is what I was made to do, sometimes it's hard for me to swallow that thought down. Well, let me rephrase that. I miss my time with the man that I love. I miss his undivided attention and the feeling I got when I knew I was at the forefront of his mind and his heart. Selfish? Maybe. Honest? Yes. The truth is, nothing can prepare you for your life to change so drastically so quickly. I've said that a thousand times. As individuals, I feel that Jared and I have accepted those changes with grace and poise, but as husband and wife? We've given so much of ourselves to the tiny human being we've created, that we've left little energy for each other. And at five months, I'm ready to make a change. I'm not an artist, but I have this image in my mind and if I could, I would put it on a canvas. It's Jared and I. We're passing each other in the main living space of our home, a blurry swirl of thoughts around each of us. Lacking in balance and symmetry.  Occupying the same space and time, but completely unaware of the other. Some days, that's how I feel. Two entities. Two lives. And damn, do I miss him. Every. Single. Day. I miss him. 

In five months our world has been turned upside down, and it's the most beautiful, remarkable, incredible mess imaginable. We've learned so much. About life, and about the heart's capacity to love. Emerson is everything we dreamed of. Everything we hoped for and so much more. We dove into those waters and came up breathing this new life into our lungs. Seeing with new eyes, and loving with new hearts. I think that now it's time for us to do the same for our marriage. I think that one of the most important things a child can witness is the love of her parents for one another. We're learning and we will continue to learn. Writing on our hearts daily that showing and talking love to each other is the foundation, the solid ground upon which our daughter will stand.