Qs first birthday

One Year Into Motherhood

By 300 Sandwiches

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Our little Q turned one last week.  I can’t believe I’m the mother of a one-year-old.

My first year as a mother has been the most enlightening year of my life. I never thought I could laugh and cry so hard and so long at the same time. I never thought my heart could grow as big as it has from loving Q. I never thought I could function so well on such little REM sleep.

Many have wondered why I haven’t been blogging as much the past couple of months. For one, I couldn’t seem to find the time, and if I did, I wanted to spend it gazing into the eyes of my baby, not at a computer screen. I knew this time between us was fleeting, so I needed to live in the moment as best I could.

I also didn’t feel confident enough to share the struggles I’ve had during motherhood with the world. For example, the way I had a breakdown when Q had a bad fall. I cried more when Q had a cold over the summer and another one in September than she did. I was not as strong or as knowledgeable about motherhood as I wanted to pretend, so I didn’t pretend. Instead, I lived out the lessons my baby taught me every day in private, and got some perspective.  Now after a year, I have more context on everything I’ve experienced. Thus, whatever tips or advice I share will be even better informed.

Aside from the challenges, I’ve had so many joys, way more than I can remember. But a lot of our happiest moments with Q just aren’t share-worthy. For example, the best part of the day is when Q wakes up in the morning and gives me that gummy grin. Then we pull her into bed with us, and she crawls around and giggles and smacks our faces with that delicate but heavy baby hands. Those moments are not styled. The lighting isn’t perfect. And the last thing I want to do in that moment is grab a camera. I just want to keep squeezing my baby.

The years are running by. Each day of dirty diapers and meltdowns over naps and bumps and bruises seem longer than the next. But the years are flying by so quickly that it seems like I gave birth 15 minutes ago. Before I know it, Q will be walking, then running, then driving. And I will look back and think did I have enough time? Did we cherish all of our moments together? Was I present enough?

I don’t want to second guess. I want to know. That may mean at times sharing fewer moments with the world to share more time with my baby. Or it may mean sharing more—baby pictures are why Instagram and Facebook were invented, right?

Whatever I can do to make my moments with her last a bit longer, I will do.

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