To My Baby Turning One – It Feels Like Yesterday

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It feels like yesterday you almost came out of me in the car. Recently, I heard some of the music we listened to on that unforgettable ride to the hospital. It took me back to that night. My stomach churned thinking about how afraid I was.

It feels like yesterday I savored every minute, holding you on the few days your dad had off of work. I knew that newborn time was fleeting and my time with someone to help was precious.

It feels like yesterday that you first smiled at me with those beautiful lips.

It feels like yesterday I was tirelessly walking you around the kitchen island over and over asking Alexa to play Disco Inferno by Rhino Hi-Five for the 50th time. It was the only song that made you stop crying.

It feels like yesterday I heard your first laugh. It was nothing like the other kids and from then on we spent a lot of time trying to make you laugh.

It feels like yesterday, I drove around town, exploring all the back roads because it was the only time you slept.

I admit as you got older I didn’t get to celebrate many of your firsts and I definitely wasn’t anxious for you to move through any stage quickly.

I remember one day putting you down on the ground outside for the first time. (I hate how messy clothes get when babies crawl or roll outside) But I let it go and put you down and you decided to crawl. Celia shouted, “Mom Crosby’s crawling! Look, Look Mom!” (Your big sister often tells me what you are up to when I am busy). We were all excited.

I’m pretty sure your first food was Cheerios off the floor.

I never put pants on you, or socks, or hats. I don’t stress over what you are wearing. I just found you wearing 4-6 months pants, you are almost one. But that’s the way it’s been with you my third. Hectic, Fun, easygoing, and you are happy.

There are times I’ve felt ashamed, afraid I am not doing enough. Not caring for you well enough. Afraid I will forget you. And I feel guilty, I don’t get to pay attention to you. I don’t remember everything you like. I didn’t get to make you your own food. I can’t make a list of exactly how you like to be put to bed. I don’t have any idea of which toys you prefer. I’m pretty sure you get into things I never thought possible.

But I thank God for you every day my rainbow baby.

If I focus on all the ways I am not enough, I am stuck feeling inadequate. It takes the joy away from those special moments and amounts them to nothing when they are everything.

I have done my very best to love you and let go of perfection and all of the “should haves” that come to mind often.

I am going to stumble, I won’t always have my ducks in a row, but I promise to admit when I’m wrong and not let pride get the best of me.

You are special.

It’s because of you that I started this habit of waking up and writing.
It’s because of you I learned to find joy in the little moments.
It’s because of you, we laugh and giggle a lot.
It’s because of you I got to experience the joy of another child.
It’s because of you I get to see your brother and sister pine over who gets to sit next to you and help take care of you.
It’s because of you I rediscovered my love of photography.

Thank you for shining your light on so many. Your smile brightens the world. Never let anyone darken your spirit. You are worthy and loved no matter what.

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This post originally appeared on Mama Daring Greatly

Hi. I’m Carrie Usmar. I married a brit and we live with our 3 kids in an old cape in Rhode Island. We left suburbia for the country and I often share my ridiculous run-ins with nature.

I am a writer. Never did I think I would say those words. I’ve been a nanny, a mommy, a photographer, a barista, a donut maker, but writer was not on the list. Over time I have realized how much it helps me process, and grow. How much it helps others feel comfort.

I continue to be brave and share but there are periods where fear gets the best of me. Depression and PTSD wore me down over the years till I was unrecognizable. I share my journey of rising up from the darkness and finding the light. Find me on my blog, Mama Daring Greatly, and on FB, Instagram, Twitter, and Pinterest.

3 COMMENTS

  1. This just made me cry. It was beautifully written in every way. For some odd reason it has me left longing for a 3rd child of my own. Because those little moments and all the 1st(s) were worth all the heartache with my second.

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