Maybe I’ll always be a new mom. Kind of an intimidating thought. We’re closing in on Annie’s first year, and I’m still feeling…well, new at this. Not the newborn new – we’ve settled in to a familiarity with one another that has helped to demystify the cries and ease the panic of not knowing what she needs. But yesterday she took seven – SEVEN- steps all by herself and my jaw dropped and the brand-spankin’- newness of it about knocked me over. Every day is something she didn’t do or see the day before. I jump to move things out of her reach every three minutes and wonder how to keep her safe while nurturing this limitless curiosity. How do you do that when your child is fascinated with the toilet bowl, peering and reaching into it every chance she gets? I’m often a step behind her, half a step ahead if I’m lucky.
And yet the rushing-around-because-uh-oh-what-did-she-just-eat takes a back seat to the wonder wrapped around everything Annie experiences. Her first dip in a pool, chilly and vast. The sound of birds chirping. Dogs. Light switches. We could spend half an afternoon turning her bedroom light on and off. She studies things with such attention and focus, and all of a sudden I’m seeing flowers, shoes, and whisks through the eyes of someone who’s never seen them before.
This blog thing is also new, an attempt to soften and shed a few hardened layers. For the past year and a half I’ve chronicled our journey with our baby’s heart defect and open heart surgeries on CaringBridge, a site that helps families keep others in the loop during medical events. In large part, this last year was a medical event. And our lives will continue to play host to more medical events that I ever imagined. But I’m ready to trade cardiac updates for something outside that framework, to lose the shell that grew over me in that hospital room, to look at the world with the joy of a child who hears just how loud a kitchen pot can clang for the first time.
Before having a baby I wondered if I was a little too crusty for the whole thing. I wasn’t really a “baby person” and still can’t fully claim that title. But my experience of motherhood, despite Annie’s achingly difficult first few months, has been one that keeps me on my toes too much to allow cynicism to take too deep a root. I mean, I have a front row seat to a child’s discovery of the world every day. So as I nurture her curious little spirit, I might as well tend to my own inquisitive side while I’m at it.
I hope I’m always new at this.
the village and the nest 
Emily, thanks for sharing. Your unique perspective on motherhood coupled with your obvious gift for prose promises to make your blog a “must read”. I hope it is as cathartic for you as it will be enjoyable for your readers.
Thank you Woody!
Amen to Woody’s comment. I love to read your writing, Emily. And the “wonder of the new” comes around gloriously again when watching grandkids only this time I am even more attentive and not distracted by dishes or laundry that are not my responsibility! Can’t wait to see you and Clay and meet Annie at David’s wedding. Love to all
Thank you Aunt Ro – can’t wait to see you too!
I love your writing. Yes, I still feel new with a 6 year old! And because James is her complete opposite, it’s new all over again;). Have you read “one thousand gifts”? I feel like you are so good at recognizing every little blessing and seeing the big picture too. You remind me of that book- I’m still in the middle of it, but I feel like you’d like it.
So glad to read the healthy, happy, growing, walking! Annie updates! I’m marking your blog, so keep ’em coming. Love you!
I”ll check it out! Love you too. And thank you 🙂 xoxo
Hi, Emily. I am Erin Callahan’s cousin. She’s kept me posted on Annie’s health and well being over the past year and more — before she was born. I’ve since read all of your Caring Bridge posts, and Erin just sent me the link to this blog. I’m so glad she did. You really are a talented writer (I say this not because I’m an authority, but because I like to read what you write). Thanks for sharing your world, and Annie’s, with me. I have a nine month old who is also FASCINATED with the toilet and who is the source of so much delight, worry, and energy in our home. I’m not a “baby person,” either, but it’s impossible not to be continually astounded by his experience of daily life. I’m pretty sure that the newness only wears off if our souls get old and crusty.
Anyway, the point is: you’re awesome, and your Annie is amazing. Does she also have a penchant for trashcans? : )
Liz, thank you for keeping up with our family and for your kind words! We’ve managed to tuck most of the trash cans away but Annie beelines for her diaper pail every chance she gets.
So happy to see her happy and enjoying all the wonders. Keep writing, what a great start!
Thanks Iden 🙂
Found your blog on LST. Love your writing style and the sentiment of your words. I also never felt like a “baby person”; I used to cringe every time I saw a mom and baby get on the airplane I was waiting for. But, my son has taught me so much about love, about patience, about kindness and finding beauty in the ordinary. He truly makes me want to be a better person. How do they do that?
Emily, I’m not sure, but I’ve gotten similar lessons from Annie! I think she makes me want to be a better person because she has so, so much faith in me. I mean, she believes that I’m a better person than I actually am, and letting her down would be so hard. And she’s also learning how to be a human, in part, from me, which is terrifying in so many ways….but it sure keeps me in check 😉 Thank you for reading!