She was born the day before the opening ceremony for the 2008 summer Olympics. So, I remember nursing her on the couch and watching swimming, volleyball, and diving. She slept on her belly on the couch next to us, as we cheered for team USA and celebrated every one of Michael Phelps' medals.
I remember my first night at home, my mom came by with dinner only an hour after we had left her house. She helped me lay Marley down in her cradle for the first time, as well as successfully get out of the room without her waking up.
I remember putting Marley in her crib for the first time so I could take a shower, and checking the baby monitor at least every 30 seconds to make sure I wasn't missing her crying. And when I got out of the shower a few minutes later, she was still sound asleep and content.
Diaper changes were so scary at first. Her body was so tiny, and it took a while to figure out how to change her clothes the easiest and quickest way. It was fun to see her in all the outfits we had picked out for her, but it was so hard to actually put them on her. We had to navigate which hand went where and how to pull the clothes on while holding her head and getting them on straight. There should be classes about that stuff.
Something I try to think about very seldomly were the hours and hours spent trying to get her to go to sleep at night. I can still remember the feeling of sitting in my glider, just rocking, and hushing, and singing, while tears rolled down both of our faces. You feel like you're doing something wrong, and you wonder what the secret trick is. Does everyone know it but you? Is she hungry? Is she teething already? What if we live the next 5 years by sleeping during the day and playing at night? Could we do it? Is she just over-tired? How do I know? And most importantly how do I fix it? It's exhausting just to think about that feeling.
All of those things, the good and the bad, fade away. Tonight I curled up next to my toddler and thought about all of these memories. I am amazed at how different life is. I miss those times, and I lament the fact that I will never have my little baby Marley to fit in my arms like she used to. But, lying next to her sweet, sleeping face and watching her grin as she dreams, I know it is worth every thing. Every night I spent crying, trying to get her to sleep. Every day I spent trying to soothe a fussy baby. Those days and nights have led me to this wonderful little person.
I'm excited to see her pigtails bouncing as she runs through the house one day. I'm excited to hear her talking in sentences. I'm excited to see her teaching her little brother or sister sign language. I'm excited to see her catch her first fish with Daddy or ride a bike for the first time. I'm excited to help her study for her first spelling test, and bring home her first A+.
I'm excited about these things, but I can wait for them. Because this moment right here is so important to me also.
When Marley was three months old, I wrote this during an emotional night:
How could it go so fast already? Soon she will six months old, then a year. Walking and running and talking. I don't ever want to forget any of it. Tonight while I was holding her and she was smiling in her sleep I just cried and cried. I want her to want me like this forever. I want to hold her and rock her to sleep every night. I don't want to miss a thing. I am so excited for the future, but she will only be exactly like this right now. There is no going back.
I knew how it felt then, and it feels the same way now. Time goes by so quickly. I promise to soak up this time, because it will be over soon and I will miss it. Just like I miss those first few weeks.