Elizabeth Update

Elizabeth continues to be a charming baby, and I decided recently that she is enjoyable 23 3/4 hours of the day.  And some days she's just pleasant the entire day.  I'm sure my other babies were just as enjoyable, but perhaps I just have the time to notice Elizabeth.  Or perhaps because she is my last, I'm soaking it all in before it's over.

I love watching her progress through all the stages, from a little lump that does nothing to a baby that is starting to make intentional attempts to do something.  She hasn't figured out how to flip over yet, but has realized that she can kick her mobile and will happily wait in her crib, kicking contentedly, until someone comes to pick her up.  

She is a very cheerful baby, smiling whenever she sees someone, and laughing when she is tickled.  Her favorite tickling spot is her collar bones, safely hidden up under her multiple chins.  I can never get enough of baby laughs; after having my own babies I completely understand Peter Pan's story of how fairies are born.  

Her siblings all adore her and race to go fetch the 'queen Elizabeth' when their sister's nap is over.  Often fights break out over who gets to hold her when Elizabeth is awake, and if I didn't want to hold her I'd never have to.  The children are always devising some new conveyance or throne for their favorite sister.

I love to see Elizabeth every morning when she greets me with her cheerful smile, and sometimes sit and watch her sleep and marvel at her perfect babiness.  Knowing that she is my last is often bittersweet.  I've been told many times before that babies grow up so fast, and have always thought that it was a good thing.  But now that every single day that passes brings an end to my time as a mother of babies, I feel each of those days keenly.  I try not to focus on that too much, but it's hard.  I can never get in enough baby snuggles to last me the rest of my life and soon enough I will only have the memory of them.  

I wouldn't keep her as a baby even if I could because she needs to have her own chance to grow and learn, just as I have had my own.  Sometimes I imagine what she will be like as a teenager, a young adult, a mother like me and can hardly see it in her chubby baby curves.  I imagine myself in my own mother's arms, being cherished as I now cherish.  I didn't imagine that parenting would be a sacrifice in this way, letting your child grow and become their own person when you'd rather keep them as yours forever.

I hope that when I die I can live in my memories in perfect fidelity, and feel her soft cheek against my own, her tiny fists grasping my hair.  I can hold her again as she relaxes into perfect baby sleep, content to be in my arms as all is right with the world.  I can hear her delighted baby chuckle and watch her arms wave in delight as I tickle her tiny sides.  

But for now, I can still enjoy the passing days as they actually happen.  They haven't run out yet and I can still tuck her into the corner of my lap where she is content to stay for now.  And she can stay there as long as she likes.