BIGGER

thoughts on a growing baby and growing into motherhood

This morning I picked up my baby– just shy of 11 months old– and he felt different. Bigger. Heavier. Sturdier.

Every time our garage door opens, our Uppababy Bassinet stares me down. The lovely contraption that is part bed, part stroller. Also large, somewhat cumbersome, but a necessity for an infant. At least that’s what I told myself while researching strollers while pregnant with my first son. This stroller? It’s a must. Now that bassinet is a mere accessory collecting dust (and who knows what else) inside of our garage. I look at it every day and can’t remember the last day I slipped my baby into it. Maybe I pushed him to town or maybe we walked to pick up his big brother from daycare or maybe we had just been pushing him up and down our street to kill some time before dinner. I don’t remember what we did, but I do know for certain, one day he was lounging in a bassinet and the next day he was sitting upright in another contraption called the rumble seat, never to sit in that bassinet again. That completely necessary, used every day, ride or die attachment is now… simply no longer needed.

Today he was bigger than yesterday. Most days I don’t notice that change– though he must be changing– as he grows and stretches and fills out (and then thins out and then fills out again). Every part of him growing so slowly– the days, remember, are very long– and yet suddenly, too. Onesies he once swam in are pulled taut. Diaper sizes are adjusted when I go to order the next batch. I have to dig through our storage containers to find the next size up of mittens and winter hats and booties from his brother’s hand-me-downs.

When I lifted him out of his crib this morning, he felt heavier than yesterday. The worries of yesterday feel slighter, replaced by new worries. My postpartum goal of figuring out bottle feeding, a distant memory. Today I try to figure out another way to serve his scrambled egg breakfast so he doesn’t get bored (maybe with cheese? Over potatoes? Mashing it with bananas to make a “pancake”?). The once-forbidden basement stairs now call to him like Mount Everest to a climber. I once calculated out wake windows– an internal stopwatch constantly running in the background of my brain– and now I am mapping out a strategy for dropping down to one nap.

There was a sturdiness to him that wasn’t there before when I give him a morning cuddle. Once just happy to be pushed in the stroller to various activities, he’s now part of the action. He has opinions! And preferences! And lets them be known! He moves with confidence and makes us laugh with genuine humor. He’ll catch my eye from across the room and smile in a way that feels like he’s just saying, “Hey mama.”

Today, he was bigger, heavier, sturdier— and my heart grew with him. It hasn’t just divided to hold all this love; it’s expanded, stretched in ways I never thought possible. My heart is heavier too, mourning the fleeting baby days as we approach his first birthday. And yet, it feels sturdier, as this year has shaped me into the mother he needs, teaching me to trust myself as much as he trusts me.