Tonight I pulled out the bin of 0-3 month baby boy clothes. For the third time. Though we still have 4 months til his arrival, I just can’t help myself. After a 3 year hiatus, these tiny clothes will once again wrap up a tiny soul entrusted to our family. As I sat folding each article, I was overwhelmed with so many sweet memories.
Like the shirt that Big Brother wore, just 2 days old, when I introduced him to his Daddy in Iraq via satellite.
Or the plaid pants he wore, six weeks later, when he finally got to meet him face-to-face.
Then there was the camouflage sweatshirt that seemed to fit Middle Man’s personality so well
And the froggy burp cloth that came everywhere with him because he was such a projectile vomiter.
And then there’s the pajamas. I’m pretty sure I’ve spent every second of the night with each son nursing or changing diapers or rocking back to sleep. (There’s no pictures of that, because, well, who takes pictures at 3 am when completely sleep-deprived?) It is so strange how easily I can forget the complaints of that season- such little sleep, so many feedings! I mean, I remember factually that there was little sleep to be had, but I don’t feel those memories. What I do feel is the sweetness of that season. Sitting quietly in the dark with a baby. Smelling his hair. Eyes getting heavy. Breath relaxing.
So in four months I’ll once again have the opportunity to forsake complaining about the lack of sleep or the plethora of diapers and simply enjoy the moment. What a gift! And I’m sure, there will be plenty of stories to share 🙂