Morning thoughts

Scene: My living room. Jonah is fast asleep in his swing, kind of slumped forward. He looks a little awkward but I resist the urge to move him. I say to myself, "He's asleep. He's not crying. So he must be fine." Me, in my pajamas, eating the breakfast I managed to make myself. Just oatmeal and tea, but just a few weeks ago boiling water would have seemed impossible. The dishwasher is running -- probably soothing Jonah. On the stereo: a lullaby version of Radiohead, Jonah's favorite. He's heard it since he was born. Earlier, at the first few notes of "No Surprises," Jonah eyes widen just a bit and he listened. He knows it. And likes it. Now, Jonah stirs. His feet twitch and he makes little grunts and whinnies, but as I watch him his eyes remain closed and he seems to fall back to sleep. Again, I feel a pang of guilt for plopping him in a swing. I should be wearing him in a sling or holding him. But, with a few minutes of free hands and quiet, I also think of the long list of other things I'd like to get done. Like, return some phone calls or finish the dishes from last night's dinner. Or, simply get dressed rather than sit around all morning in my bathrobe, and other things that suddenly escape my mind as I peak at my baby again. He's wearing one of my favorite outfits, an orange long-sleeved onesie that says "Single" on the front. Every time I dress him in this he spits up on it or pees on it within minutes. I wonder how long this outfit will make it today. Jonah had a kind of rough night, grunting and fussing his way through an early morning feeding for reasons I can only guess (gas, poop, a spitup brewing?). Nursing him took twice as long as usual and neither of us went right back to sleep like we often do. He's tired. I'm tired. So maybe I'll stay in my bathrobe a bit longer, delay getting dressed until a little later. I glance at the clock and do a quick calculation, trying to remember about how long ago Jonah last ate. He could wake with hunger very soon. I best not get involved in another project now. (I say this a lot, as you can imagine, since he eats about every 2 hours, give or take.) Another pang of guilt: Jonah should be sleeping in his bed, his co-sleeper, for his morning nap. Not a baby swing. Does he sleep as well in a swing? I don't know. Maybe he does. I think he sleeps best snuggled right up with us in our bed at night. Having him so close and being able to nurse him lying down makes the nights so much easier. He doesn't even have to resort to crying to wake me up when he's hungry. He just touches me and I wake up and know what he needs. The nights, once the dreaded time that Matthew and I felt we barely survived in the early days and weeks with a new baby, have become one of my favorite times with Jonah. He nurses and we lie facing each other, his warm little belly against my body. I can feel his breath rising and falling, he holds onto my clothing with one hand and pushes his little feet now and then against my thigh. He is warm and soft, and sighs now and then between sucks. We both eventually drift off to sleep like that. This morning, the laundry will wait, the bed will stay unmade, I'll make my phone calls later. Now, in a peaceful stretch in my cozy cocoon, I sip my tea and think about my life right now and watch my baby boy, taking the advice of friends who are parents to "savor every moment." ~ Nicole