Three years ago, we welcomed Miss H into our family and I became a mum of three under three! She has blessed our lives with fun, cheek, laughter and love. Bucket loads of love. She’s an affectionate little thing, and though she’s outgrown many things, she hasn’t outgrown cuddles (thankfully!).
I always get nostalgic around the girls’ birthdays, reminiscing about their birth and reflecting on the early days. I loved my labour with Miss H. It was a (mostly) positive, enjoyable experience free of the trauma and intervention of my previous two labours. You can read her birth story here. While the birth was lovely, the post-natal complications were traumatic. And if you’re up for that story, you can find that here.
Miss H wasn’t really a “baby” for long. She took the express train out of my womb into toddlerhood to join her sisters. Aside from the early months of her life, she has always seemed much older than her years; busy and impatient with milestones. She crawled early, walked early and talked early. She also leant the art of manipulation with lightning speed!
I’ve always thought she would be our last baby and that’s why when SHE decided to give up breastfeeding I mourned this greatly. When I moved her from basinet to cot I felt a pang of nostalgia – for three babies had come home from hospital and into that bassinet. But by far the hardest transition for me (not her) was moving her from cot to bed recently.
I took a while to be convinced that she was ready for this transition. She was very content in her cot and I tend to like keeping them “contained.” But, ripping the Band-Aid off slowly was causing me to hold on tighter. So recently, I decided today was the day and I sent my hubby off to buy her a bed. I went out and bought the all-important linen for the bed, a job I would never entrust my husband to fulfil to my, er, “standards.”
Within the afternoon the cot had been moved to the side of the room and the bed was assembled and made. The excitement and joy that flooded Miss H’s eyes and cheeks while all this was going on left little doubt that the timing was right. She was dancing with delight.
My husband asked me what we should “do” with the cot. I told him I was not ready to give it up. For him, the cot resembles a piece of furniture that for many years has served a practical function. For me, it is so much more than pieces of timber joined together. It is my connection with early motherhood. It is my memories of babies. It is where I wrapped three newborns and places them like mini burritos on their tummy and patted them to sleep. It is where I plucked them with eyes barely open, to take them to the couch to feed in the quiet of the night. It is where they “showed off” standing. It is where they relieved their teething symptoms. So many little bite marks adorn to the top timber rail.
So, the cot has relocated to the shed. I am not ready to say goodbye to it just yet. The upside of moving Miss H from cot to bed has given me the chance to transform her baby room into a big kid room. While it’s not quite finished yet, here’s sneak peek of the progress.
My darling Miss H,
Now you are three!
Thank you for filling our lives with so much energy, excitement and love. You are affectionate, curious and radiant. You are thoughtful, inclusive and theatrical. I love how your eyes sparkle from dawn till dusk. You will always be my “baby” and I love you to Merricks, to Noosa, to Port Douglas, and to the Moon…and back.
Happiest of birthdays to you my petal. I hope you enjoy your rainbow party. I love you more than I can put into words.
How old was your little one when you transitioned them from cot to bed. Did you feel nostalgic, like me?