Maternity Leave, Week 6

Colin is six weeks old today. I made it.

While I was pregnant, I was told by several experienced parents that the first six weeks of an infant’s life are the hardest on the parents, what with all the sleep deprivation, the hormone roller coaster, and mysterious crying fits, not to mention all the uncertainties that come with the territory of a new baby. Since the first few days at home with him, I’ve had that arbitrary milestone in the back of my mind during the horrible low points when he just wouldn’t stop crying—or I wouldn’t stop crying—as the time when it would get better.

And I think I can pinpoint the exact moment it seemed like I was actually getting comfortable in my new role as a parent. I had already strapped Colin in his car seat, which with all the buckles and straps is not an easy feat, when I remembered I needed to get a package ready to drop off at the post office. About that time, Colin started to fuss, which quickly turned into a cry. Since it would not have been practical to unstrap him to hold in one arm while trying to wrangle packing tape with another, I hurried to get the task done so I could tend to his needs. But then something incredible happened.

He stopped crying. Without my intervention.

Before that moment, every time I heard so much as a whine, I was checking his diaper, seeing if he wanted to nurse, making sure he was not too hot or cold, moving him to a different location in case he was bored with his surroundings, or waving a toy in front of his face. It was utterly exhausting.

I was amazed not only that he apparently really can soothe or distract himself, but that he himself had to teach me that he was capable of it. Since that moment, I check on him whenever he starts to fuss in earnest in case it’s because he’s slid too far down in his still too-big swing or his bib has flipped up in his face and he can’t figure out how to get it down. But I don’t jump up at every baby noise or the start of every crying fit, and many times can finish what I’m doing and go on to the next because he really is OK without me for a bit.

This means freedom. That’s what it feels like even though in reality it is just a little slice of freedom. It’s the freedom to do small projects around the house like set up the bike trainer, figure out how to set up and get Netflix on our new Blu-ray player, and upload the latest batch of adorable baby photos to my Flickr account.

Along with this newfound freedom, I love the fact that I am starting to see glimmers of discovery in Colin. He’s just starting to notice the small animals dangling above his head when he’s on his play mat and recognize me by sight and not just by smell or voice. But my favorite discovery as of late is that he’s starting to pay attention to music and even attempts to “sing” (meaning he’s more vocal whenever music is playing). I can even settle him down sometimes just by hitting the Music icon on my iPhone and clicking “Shuffle” because he needs to quiet down to hear the song.

Along those lines, my new favorite activity is cooking in the kitchen because he’s entertained for more than an hour with my iPhone playing music on the blanket he’s lying on within view of me singing into a wooden spoon and dancing to the beat. Well, he’s either entertained or paying extra attention to my ridiculous attempt at trying to dance so he can accurately recall it later to a therapist when he’s listing ways that I embarrassed him during his childhood.

Now that I’ve reached this six-week milestone, I feel like I’m finally not waiting for it to get better.

It already is.