My Baby

The times I tell the story in detail have become fewer and further between. But yesterday as I sat chatting with two other parents, there it was. After all, most people are curious, did I know?

It all came flooding back. Ella’s story. As I recalled her first days yet again, I realized, however, that there are so many parts that I leave out. Even here, in this space, it is the condensed version void of the little details that have come to mean so much more than they did five years ago.

I always say that Ella was the perfect baby. She never cried. But this my friends, is a lie. Oh, she could cry and she did cry. I remember struggling to keep it together as she was placed in that plexiglass box, tanning shades on with nothing on but a diaper, her tiny yellow body shaking with confusion. She cried. And I remember having to pull over on an exit off Hwy 2 en route to Alberta Children’s hospital to calm her, desperately sitting hunched over her carseat, cheek to cheek in an effort to let her know I was there. She cried.

She cried, because Ella did and still does always need to be held. At bedtime, when I sit in the chair next to her bed – she holds my hand in hers until finally I hear her breathing regulate and I pull away. And then in the morning, when we sit side by side together on my bed reading and she clings to me when I tell her I need to get up, “No, mommy. Wait.”

Maybe it was because I was afraid. Maybe it was because I had a toddler and needed both hands free all the time, but in those first months I wore Ella in our Moby wrap for a good portion of each day as I cleaned the house, ran errands and played with Jakob. I have and always will hold Ella close to my heart. She is my baby. My youngest.

Friday, this will all change. How? I am not sure. It is both terrifying and exciting (she writes reluctantly).

We have been a family of four for five years. I don’t want Ella to stop being my baby, and yet, I am excited to see how she will grow and flourish as big sister. As the day approaches I find myself unexpectedly conflicted and scared.