Saturday, June 1, 2013

Happy Two Months: A Letter to Arlo

Dear Arlo,

You're two months old today. How is that even possible? Already, your daddy and I can't even imagine life without you. Time is going by way too quickly, and I'm making a conscious effort to enjoy every moment with you—even the challenging ones.

Yes, my perfect, sweet, beautiful boy, there are challenging moments around here. I blame most of this on your reflux, which has caused damage to your esophagus. Your medicine is helping, but still, sometimes you just cry and cry—and skip all of your naps—because you're in so much pain. Not even staring at your curtains can console you when you get like this. Nothing can. I hate feeling so helpless, and it breaks my heart to know you're hurting.

But oh, Lord, there are happy times, too. Complete and utter joyfulness. Sometimes, all it takes to make you smile is for your daddy or me to smile at you. You grin and coo, and your voice is the sweetest sound we've ever heard. We're anxiously awaiting some giggles from you. You've done a few of them in your sleep, and we thought our hearts were going to burst.

I looked at the pictures we took of you when you turned one month old, and it's amazing how much you've changed. Most people have stopped commenting on how much you look like your daddy—and instead, comment that you're a good blend of both of us. This is my favorite thing to hear.

People also comment that you're one of the most beautiful babies they've ever seen. We've heard this from dozens of people, and maybe it's just something people say to a first-time mommy to be nice, but you're certainly the most gorgeous boy I've ever seen. There's something incredibly beautiful about you—and I'm not just referring to your perfect little face. I see something wise and otherworldly in your eyes. Your daddy thinks I'm insane when I say that, but a friend recently said that you're an old soul—so I think she was seeing what I see.

At your two-moth checkup, you weighed 12lb 3oz and were 22 1/2" long, which puts you in the 68th and 39th percentiles, respectively. Dr. Robbins was impressed with how strong your legs are. You can "stand" when you're leaning against our chests, which is apparently something most babies master around 4 months of age. Your daddy thinks you'll be a super early walker. Time will tell. You got some shots at this checkup, and when you cried, your daddy and I both did, too. We hated witnessing that stunned expression—and then such agony—on your face... but our own tears just reconfirmed what we already knew:  we love you.


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