Letter to Lucia: 20 Weeks

Little Lucy,

You’re five months old today! Growing so fast, yet still such a tiny baby. You’ve had personality since the moment you were born—but it’s coming through so dramatically now, in your screeches and raptor calls, in your beaming, dimpled smile. You certainly have a mind of your own, which drives me crazy sometimes; but your stubbornness and occasionally irrational behavior makes you, I suppose, your mother’s child.

You’re getting very good at a variety of things these days, such as grasping toys in your hands, supporting your weight on your feet when we hold you up, kicking your legs high into the air, grasping hanging toys with your toes, and studying things intently as you hold them in front of your eyes. But your forte—the area where you really excel right now—is chewing. You chew on everything and anything; no toy, no finger, no shoulder, no sleeve, no blanket is safe. Sometimes, when I hold you against my shoulder, you’ll open your mouth wide and start chewing on my chin or jaw. You attack things with such determination, opening your mouth and squinting your eyes like a little baby monster; it’s adorable, even though I end my days with you covered in drool.

This month you had your first trip to San Francisco, and we’ll be spending four days there next week. It’s not easy planning for such a trip, but I’m determined to make you used to new surroundings; it’s too easy to get set in our habits and routines here at home, and I want to make you an adaptable baby. The truth is, you handle these things just fine. I think it’s I who needs to make sure I stay flexible.

You, my dear baby, are forcing me to get out of the house on a regular basis, and we do pretty well during the week, seeing friends and going to my exercise class and sometimes going to Target or the grocery store with Daddy. It’s been rainy—it’s the rainy season here—but, soon enough, it will be too hot to do much except seek out AC. I hope you enjoy the sound of the raindrops while they last. Last week, there was even a rainbow, and when I brought you onto the back porch to show you, you really seemed to look at where I was pointing, taking it in.

Your five-month birthday is bringing one big change: solid foods. Your pediatrician told us last month that we could start you on solids at any time, but we (well, I) have been putting it off. I always thought you’d breastfeed exclusively until you were six months old; this isn’t an arbitrary deadline—I’ve read it many places and heard it from many people—but I’ve accepted that there’s some room here for flexibility. And you do seem ready to try something new. I feel a strange sense of sadness at the idea of something besides breastmilk entering your body—as though I’m tainting you, somehow—even though this is simply a natural, and good, next step for a robust, growing baby. And I do feel a certain amount of pride that I’m solely responsible for all the cute pudge on your legs, arms, cheeks, and belly. I’m curious to see how you’ll do with your first taste of solids—perhaps later today will be the big day.

Each day you look less infant-like and more baby-like; but at night, after your bath, when we put you in your sleep sack, your tiny bare babyfeet dangle free from the bottom, you snuggle into my shoulder, and you seem, still, so very new.

In honor of your five-month birthday, last night you (nearly) slept through the night—and slept until 8:45am! And you just breastfed splendidly. So it’s a happy five-month birthday for Mommy, too