I don’t know what we did to be blessed with such a wonderful baby, but I thank God daily for you.
You. It’s such a funny word to give an infant. You’ve barely grown as a person, but you, Ivy — at three months have already developed a real personality. We sometimes call you “the baby” or “this one” — but really, we should be calling you Ivy all the time, because you’re so easy to know.
So what can I tell you about yourself so early in this sweet life? You’re incredibly laid back. Nothing bothers you and you don’t bother anyone. Unless you’re tired. Then all hell breaks loose and you use this fantastic high-pitched, zero-to-60 scream to get my attention.
Right now you have an amazing ability to just “get it.” Life seems to come easy to you. Nursing? You got it. From day one, you knew how to nurse like a champion. Sleeping? You got it. You were such a sleepy baby at the beginning and it’s carried on to today (I can’t thank you enough for sleeping through the night so early in the game). Fussiness? Compared to your colicky sister, you were fussy only eight times. That’s right. Eight.
As for your personality, my dear, you are that smiley baby. You smile at everything. We lift your arms — you smile. We lower your arms — you smile. We dip your feet in water — you smile. You take breaks during nursing just to look at me and smile, and sometimes sing. My heart melts each and every time that you do. You smile at trees and flowers. You smile at strangers. You smile at nothing.
But my absolutely favourite smile is when you see your sister running towards you. Your face lights up and you squeal in delight. It’s as if you’re saying, “Hi Eryn! HI! I missed you! I love you!” I can see already that you’re both going to be amazing friends. It’s wonderful that you recognise her and see Eryn as an important part of your life — because she loves you too. A lot. Smothering in her love at times.
Just try not to pull her hair so much.
You drool like some kind of slime monster. You’re hair is growing back in patches. You sing, “oh, oh, oh, oh.” You love snuggling. You have seriously edible fat rolls. Your poop is pristine. You never get diaper rashes. You are chill. Seriously chill. You have to be held. All. the. time. But I love it because you’re so squishy and comfortable. You have eyes that actively search for mine and when we stare at each other, I could get lost for an eternity.
You are happy — and that makes me love you even more.
(masha’Allah, masha’Allah, masha’Allah)