Correspondence with Cole: five months

Dear Cole,

Everyday you grow more independent... note the emphasis on grow.

At your last doctor's appointment, you weighed 15.1 lbs. At five months, you've more than doubled your birth weight.

Feliz cinco meses, hijo.

And speaking of your doctor appointment, at it, she told me to "load 'em up..." with rice cereal, that is. I'd told the nurse you weren't sleeping well, waking to eat three or four times a night. You're welcome, by the way.

The rice cereal might keep you full longer, she figured. So now we feed you rice cereal mixed with breast milk or apple juice. Before bath time. And then bed time.

And like I've reacted with every milestone you've reached, with this one my heart ached.

It's one more step in your growth, one more step from babyhood and closer to the hood of man.

Someday I'll celebrate these achievements with you, but for now I want you little forever. Looking at pictures snapped in 2010, I unhinge my jaw, you've grown so much.

And with the aid of apple juice and rice cereal, that growth has less and less to do with me.

I aimed for the six-month medal. The World Health Organization recommends babies consume only breast milk for the first six months of their lives, but only 13 percent of them do. I wanted to make the Sweet 13.

Fail. 

Maybe I should have kept my sleep-deprived mouth shut. But that's what happens when you're sleep-deprived I guess.

Thinking about breast milk makes me think of the day we will wean you.

As is your custom, I will experience the trauma of the weaning while you will open your mouth to real food and cow's milk without hesitation. My mom used to do this, you'll think to yourself, oh yeah, I forgot. You won't bat your sweet blue eyes.

But mine will swell.

Every act of independence in your life (your first bottle, your first night away, your first day of day care, etc.,) you've handled with a little too much ease.

The rice cereal, for example. The doctor said it might take a couple tries for you to learn how a spoon works and it's purpose as an eating tool.

Not you.

Two mouthfuls in and you grabbed my hands and hollered "Feed me damnit!"

Perhaps these indications of independence are insights into your personality and future.

Perhaps you'll go to college out-of-state, open your own business or volunteer around the world.

My eyes may swell again, but so will my pride.

We have no specific goals for you Cole, what you do with your life is your choice. But as you grow, we do want this: happiness, health and self-sufficiency.

And we love you. As big as you become, you'll always fit it my arms.



Love,
mama