Color me stunned.
NDB is 7 months and 1 week old, and on Saturday he took his first steps, slowly and tentatively but with determination and drive. After all, there was a beautiful, breakable, intruiging water glass at the corner of the coffee table. So he flung his plush squeaky turtle away, turned, and started moving toward that glass. He held on to the table with his right hand, those tiny knuckles white with effort. His left hand clutched the air, waving up and down in search of balance. His feet, always so big for a baby his age, flexed and groped for a safe spot on the carpet. Wobbled, righted. Gripped the table with both hands again. Then overwhelmed again with that urge that runs through all of us – the current of freedom, the electricity of independence – he let go, abandoned safety and surety, and stepped out again.
It was only about four steps to the glass, and then the NewDotParents collectively exhaled and cheered and felt our hearts break a tiny bit. Will every milestone feel this way? A rush of jumbled emotions – I’m proud of him and happy that he’s growing up and doing everything a baby should do. I’m amazed and awed that we created him, this little bitty person, and now he’s becoming more and more PERSON-like every day. And I’m sad that he has left another part of his babyhood behind him, that this is one more move toward him eventually leaving us behind too.
So we have taken pictures and called the NewDotGrandparents, and it’s all very exciting. But still, after I put him to bed last night I took out the pictures from his first hours on the planet. I cried, and I rubbed my belly, and I missed all that he used to be.
Then this morning, I woke up and smiled into those sparkling blue eyes of his, and started to imagine the possibilities of all that he is turning into. It’s quite a roller coaster, this parenthood deal.