It's amazing how much changes in the first weeks of a baby's life. It seems like Fable was just born, and yet we've already gone through so many stages, she's changed so much in these eleven weeks, it seems like she's been with us forever. I talk about The Sleepless Nights like they were ages ago. But then wasn't it just last month that I said, if I could somehow get six solid hours of sleep, I'd be a new woman? And here I am tonight, daring to stay up and write a few words even though Fable has been off frolicking in slumberland for a full hour already. This is living on the edge.

For the first week of her life, we were told to wake Fable every three hours to feed her. I'd set an alarm, but it was often unnecessary. She'd sleep an hour, then a couple, then maybe a couple more. And then there were nights when she wouldn't sleep at all. One night morning I called my mom at 4:45 am to come and rescue us. She came over and held our sweet girl so that we could rest our eyes. But of course it was time to feed that sweet girl three short hours later.

The first time Fable slept four solid hours, I was afraid she'd stopped breathing. And then she slept six once, and I thought for sure something was wrong. In the beginning, there was no sleep pattern. Her longest stretch one night would be three hours, and the next night she'd sleep five. But then I'd notice she was sleeping longer and longer. Five hours one night. Six the next. Even seven! EIGHT! EIGHT WHOLE HOURS! (I'm almost afraid to admit it, but she's slept as much as NINE!)

I am now fairly confident that I can expect her to sleep about eight hours, so here I am, sacrificing sleep, throwing caution to the wind and thinking about how fast time is flying by. And how I need to soak in every second of every day so I don't forget a thing.

First Bath

We gave Fable her first tub bath when she was three and a half weeks old.

She wasn't too sure of it at first.

She fussed a bit.

But then she calmed down, and watched us as we bathed her.

Rub-a-dub-dub, baby in the tub.

Back to Work

Whoops, where did August go? I've not been writing much. I've been too busy kissing cheeks and nibbling on fingers and toes. And now my little dove is ten weeks old, and I'm returning to work tomorrow. It feels like the first day at a new school. Except instead of packing pens and paper, tonight I packed my breast pump and milk storage bottles. And even though I'm returning to work at the same company where I've been working for three years, tomorrow I'll be separated from my little girl for eight and a half whole hours, the longest we've been apart by far. I'm nervous and anxious, and most of all, feeling guilty.

The truth is, I don't really have to return to work. John has a very good job, making enough money to comfortably provide for our family. If I decided not to go back, John would fully support me. But I'm going back to work tomorrow because I can. Because I said I would. Because it's a good situation. I actually like the company I work for, my boss, and my coworkers. I am only going to be working part-time, just two days a week. And I'm leaving Fable with a friend. It's a good situation. I tell myself I have to at least give it a try. See how it goes.

But tomorrow, when my dove is upset, I won't be the one to comfort her. I won't be the one to feed her. She'll be in good hands, but they won't be mine. I'm going back to work part-time so that we can have a bit of discretionary income, so that I can get out of the house a bit and be around adults. That's what everyone tells me I'll need, adult conversation. But what about Ms. Fable? I like our conversations. Even if I do the talking for the both of us.

She's already been asleep now for close to forty minutes, so I really should scoot off to bed myself. The morning will come quickly, whether I like it or not. I know I'm feeling all sad and mopey tonight, but I'm sure I'll feel better once we've made it through one day. And truth be told, I'll likely miss her more than she misses me.

Fable,

I love you, my darling girl. And tomorrow I'll think of you often. I hope you won't be too upset that I'm not around, and I promise I'll come back for you as soon as I can. And then I'll hold you all night and you can tell me all about your day.

Love,

Mama