I rocked and sang and prayed while you fussed and nursed. It had been a hard day, smack in the middle of Week 5. Your daddy had been laid off, I was facing the impending end of my short maternity leave, and I was exhausted, overwhelmed and scared. And then, in the middle of the night, came the message from Hayley, telling me about the wonder weeks. I downloaded the app and read about your leaps and your sunny seasons and your storms. Right over the middle of Week 5, I saw a little rain cloud and remembered how Jesus calms the storms. Tears shone on my cheeks in the glow of my cell phone as I held you tight. Pure grace, that app in the middle of the night.
And so the Wonder Weeks pass.
I love watching you learn, Elijah. You go through leap after leap, and sometimes your new tricks are obvious and important, like holding your head up, and other times, you grab hold of your hair, or you just hold onto your finger for a whole afternoon and I can’t help but laugh. You’ve conquered smiling and grabbing and chewing and playing with your toes and scooting on your butt and rolling over back to front and you’ve almost got front to back. You have outgrown your chair on the counter and moved on to rockin’ & rollin’ in the exersaucer. For several weeks you would happily hang out on your play mat for long stretches, but now we play the fun game called Not Where I Left You. You’re on the move, Eggs. It’s terrifying, but I love it.
You’ve been on so many adventures already. At 6 weeks, we packed you up and flew to Seattle. People thought we were crazy. Maybe we were, but you did great. And now you’ve been to Kansas, Washington, South Dakota, North Dakota, Iowa, Illinois, Michigan and North Carolina, with airport stops in St Louis and Denver, and you’ve also been to Canada. That’s the one great thing about your dad being unemployed right now and you sleep so well in the car – it’s easy to go places. I love that you’ve met all 4 of your living great grandparents and all but one set of your great aunts/uncles, plus lots and lots of our friends. You were born into a pretty incredible family, Elijah Graham, and you are so loved.
We’ve pretty well managed to keep you out of the Doctor’s office except for your 2- and 4-month shots. We’re all about the vaccinations, and we love seeing how you stretch and grow. You’ve still got your blocked tear duct, but you’ve outgrown your reflux and Zantac, and you had nearly doubled your birth weight by 3 months. You do love to eat, Nugget. You’re a champion breastfeeder – easy and efficient – and I’m so grateful.
We dedicated you to God on the hottest day of the summer. Tim and Cheryl spoke words of blessing over you and our family, and all your friends and relations were there to support us. You are our son, Elijah, but you are first God’s. May you always know that God is God.
You slept like a champ for the first few months of your life and then your sleep fell apart in spectacular fashion. Months two and three you generally only woke once to eat, and I counted my lucky stars. Then. 4 months, day 1. Womp womp. You woke 6 times between 1 and 4:30AM and I thought I would lose my mind. I have discovered that sleep deprivation heightens my anxiety like nothing else, and only therapy and Jesus kept the racing heart at manageable speeds. We hunkered down, built a routine, and take one day and one night at a time. It’s all any of us can really do.
Your daddy’s kisses make you giggle, and you snuggle and wrestle and fly through the air and take the best naps with him. I’ll say it again, sweet son of ours. May you always know how much your father loves you.
Your hair is growing in like Donald Trump, your skin is soft and white like winter butter, and your smile melts my heart each day. It seems like every week you have a new expression, and I delight in each and every one of them. You are new grace in the morning, living, breathing, giggling, squirming. We love being a 3-family, and we love you so. Here’s to so many more weeks of wonder.