When I walk through the door, I already know what to expect. My mom will say, “Bellamy! Who is that? Who’s here?” I hear a few “ehhs” and “dadas” as I round the corner to greet her with an enthusiastic smile on my face. This usually produces some sort of grin (maybe a squeal), but doesn’t initially stop the crawling, climbing and chasing. Eventually I’ll scoop her up to head out, and her gabby (grandma) will say, “She loves to be down, mama. All she wants to do is crawl.”
For the most part, this is true. It’s what she loves to do as she learns about her body and the ability to operate independently. But without fail—for now, as we know baby habits change frequently—once I pick her up, she starts to rub her eyes. She usually does this when she is tired and communicates wanting to sleep. My mom is always caught off guard by this, because her naps end soon before I show up, so it doesn’t make sense for Bellamy to be ready to rest again.
It hit me this week she’s not communicating, I’m tired. She’s telling me she wants to cuddle and have some skin-to-skin contact with her mom (something we do before she goes to bed in the evenings). Melt me and twist my arm. I love that she looks forward to being with me as much as I look forward to being with her. It’s so heartwarming she voluntarily chooses to slow down when we are together in the afternoons to bond and reconnect after being away for long hours. It affirms my role in her life and helps keep the worries at bay.
I told my husband I was unsure of the impact working has had on our relationship. It doesn’t appear to have a negative effect, but it’s easy to believe things could always be better. He reminded me of his childhood when his mom was in school to obtain a master’s degree. He spent a lot of time with his grandmother and other family members. He said, “I never once forgot who my mother was.” I cried, as I do often these days in the last stretch of my second pregnancy, and chose to keep those words locked in my memory moving forward.
Bellamy and I have “our way” of life as we know it. It’s neat to see her express herself in different ways with different people—my mom being the one she loves to play with, her dad being the one she loves to laugh with and me being her source of loving touch and security. How dynamic are children? I’m blown away by her depth and the levels of her personality already. I love you, little one! And I can’t wait to get home to you.