My dearest LilP…
Happy Birthday to you my sweetheart as you turn two today…two glorious years which seem to have just flown by…As I sit down to write this to you today…I am lost..lost in thought of that day when you rushed into this world…of those warm cheeks which touched my tear streaked face in the OT, the loud wail (yes your voice was no match for your size even then) and the long wait of over a day before they would allow me to go and see you in the NICU…The wrinkled, tiny baby with tubes all over was my first proper memory of you… you were so frail that I was scared to touch you even…I felt so guilty for putting you in that situation when you should have been safe and sound with me…and then I lightly touched your forehead and whispered that you were not alone and mumma was with you, always was and always will be….and that we were going to make it home healthy and strong.
The next 2 months were agonizing with you battling all the possible complications of prematurity…name it and you had it..and fought it…There were times when I would lock myself in the nursing room and cry…there I was emptying the expressed milk bottle in the sink, while you lay in the warmer deprived (you were only on TPN for those 2 whole months)…new babies came and went home to their family while you embraced the NICU family as your first family…You were known as the heroine of the NICU, with your aggressive streak and loud voice….which had everyone there on their toes…you were the nurses favourite and they would come asking for you even after you were shifted out of the NICU to my room….I still remember the day you were shifted out of the NICU, the nurses there made a ceremony out of it…fighting with each other for who would have the privilege of dressing you up in the cute preemie jumper, to who would carry you out, to who would prepare your cradle in the room….I will be eternally grateful to them….As you doctor said when we left the hospital with a smile on our face….your daughter is a fighter and so are you…I guess your desire to be with me was as strong if not stronger than my desire to be with you…and not to forget the good wishes and prayers of not only family and friends but those numerous doctors, nurses, technicians, who flocked to bid us farewell from the hospital. You were quite the STAR there !!
Cut to now….and you have become a bigger STAR…sometimes I wonder how much you have grown….if the first year meant trying times, battling health issues, weight gains, strict feeding schedules, restricted access to outsiders, midnight dashes to the hospital and much more, the second year was all fun….Its been fun watching you grow…from a crawler, to a walker, to a butt swinging runner… And how you’ve changed.
From the time I had to sing and dance in front of you every three hours just so that you would be distracted enough to finish the bottle of milk, to now when you drag me into the kitchen and point to the tin containing exactly what you want to eat. My heart surges with pride when you insist on eating yourself with a “paet” (plate) and “spoo” (spoon) or break the “chepatee”(chapati)into tiny pieces with your baby fingers, dip them in “baaji” (bhaji) and stuff it in your mouth…or when you polish of a “bannanna” peeling it with your own hands
From the time I would keep a colourful newspaper sheet over your playgym, just to keep you occupied looking at the pictures, to now your preference of one book over the other, expertly rattling of the names of animals, fruits, etc…to carrying your “buk” everywhere you go, tucked in the crook of your arm, we’ve come a long way baby.
From the time I would have serious paranoia regarding your hearing abilities and the numerous screenings we did, to now when your ears perk up at the slightest sound of the “ooto” (auto) and you know mummas home from work, or when a faint whistle from your dad is enough to stop you in your tracks and look searchingly out of the window going “puppa…puppa”
From the time, I would pick you in my arms and dance to music or sing silly songs to you, to now…when you are perpetually humming tunes and singing those same silly songs….with your own interpretations of the lyrics ofcourse…and not to mention the killer dance moves you seem to have perfected.
From the time every toy I bought with my own hidden educational agenda, found its way into your mouth to the ease with which you solve puzzles in a jiffy or stack the blocks innovatively, or sort shapes perfectly…its been a ride of pure pleasure. Infact sometimes you’ve put me to shame when you’ve figured how to make a particular toy work, while momsy was reading the literature trying to get the directions to do so…
It has been a journey…exhausting but exhilarating…. annoying but amazing…tiring but thrilling….frustrating but fascinating…
Happy Birthday to you my sweetheart as you turn two today…two glorious years which seem to have just flown by…As I sit down to write this to you today…I am lost..lost in thought of that day when you rushed into this world…of those warm cheeks which touched my tear streaked face in the OT, the loud wail (yes your voice was no match for your size even then) and the long wait of over a day before they would allow me to go and see you in the NICU…The wrinkled, tiny baby with tubes all over was my first proper memory of you… you were so frail that I was scared to touch you even…I felt so guilty for putting you in that situation when you should have been safe and sound with me…and then I lightly touched your forehead and whispered that you were not alone and mumma was with you, always was and always will be….and that we were going to make it home healthy and strong.
The next 2 months were agonizing with you battling all the possible complications of prematurity…name it and you had it..and fought it…There were times when I would lock myself in the nursing room and cry…there I was emptying the expressed milk bottle in the sink, while you lay in the warmer deprived (you were only on TPN for those 2 whole months)…new babies came and went home to their family while you embraced the NICU family as your first family…You were known as the heroine of the NICU, with your aggressive streak and loud voice….which had everyone there on their toes…you were the nurses favourite and they would come asking for you even after you were shifted out of the NICU to my room….I still remember the day you were shifted out of the NICU, the nurses there made a ceremony out of it…fighting with each other for who would have the privilege of dressing you up in the cute preemie jumper, to who would carry you out, to who would prepare your cradle in the room….I will be eternally grateful to them….As you doctor said when we left the hospital with a smile on our face….your daughter is a fighter and so are you…I guess your desire to be with me was as strong if not stronger than my desire to be with you…and not to forget the good wishes and prayers of not only family and friends but those numerous doctors, nurses, technicians, who flocked to bid us farewell from the hospital. You were quite the STAR there !!
Cut to now….and you have become a bigger STAR…sometimes I wonder how much you have grown….if the first year meant trying times, battling health issues, weight gains, strict feeding schedules, restricted access to outsiders, midnight dashes to the hospital and much more, the second year was all fun….Its been fun watching you grow…from a crawler, to a walker, to a butt swinging runner… And how you’ve changed.
From the time I had to sing and dance in front of you every three hours just so that you would be distracted enough to finish the bottle of milk, to now when you drag me into the kitchen and point to the tin containing exactly what you want to eat. My heart surges with pride when you insist on eating yourself with a “paet” (plate) and “spoo” (spoon) or break the “chepatee”(chapati)into tiny pieces with your baby fingers, dip them in “baaji” (bhaji) and stuff it in your mouth…or when you polish of a “bannanna” peeling it with your own hands
From the time I would keep a colourful newspaper sheet over your playgym, just to keep you occupied looking at the pictures, to now your preference of one book over the other, expertly rattling of the names of animals, fruits, etc…to carrying your “buk” everywhere you go, tucked in the crook of your arm, we’ve come a long way baby.
From the time I would have serious paranoia regarding your hearing abilities and the numerous screenings we did, to now when your ears perk up at the slightest sound of the “ooto” (auto) and you know mummas home from work, or when a faint whistle from your dad is enough to stop you in your tracks and look searchingly out of the window going “puppa…puppa”
From the time, I would pick you in my arms and dance to music or sing silly songs to you, to now…when you are perpetually humming tunes and singing those same silly songs….with your own interpretations of the lyrics ofcourse…and not to mention the killer dance moves you seem to have perfected.
From the time every toy I bought with my own hidden educational agenda, found its way into your mouth to the ease with which you solve puzzles in a jiffy or stack the blocks innovatively, or sort shapes perfectly…its been a ride of pure pleasure. Infact sometimes you’ve put me to shame when you’ve figured how to make a particular toy work, while momsy was reading the literature trying to get the directions to do so…
It has been a journey…exhausting but exhilarating…. annoying but amazing…tiring but thrilling….frustrating but fascinating…
You rock my world baby…with your perfections and imperfections. What imperfections,..you ask? Well,…your temper for one :) You of the volatile temper and stubborn nature… Stay the same sweetheart..I know you are growing up fast but you'll always be my little baby. You are getting closer to your Pappa now, but I'll always know you more - just a tad more, for those seven months, when you were just mine-for all to know but only for me to feel.
And today, all that this mothers heart feels is gratitude for you for filling my life with so much joy…thank you my lilP and may you always be happy and healthy..
God Bless You
Momsy
God Bless You
Momsy
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