Dear baby J

Dear baby J,

I wanted to put this in writing so that by the time you are all grown up, you can read all about mummy’s experience caring for you as a little baby.

Also, (and perhaps this is the real reason) this letter is to capture my thoughts and feelings at present (at your 2-month milestone).

Why? To act as a keepsake, a memento, for the long journey ahead. The bittersweet journey also known as parenting.

So that when we look back and are tempted (again?) to try for a child, we will have enough bits and pieces of the baby experience to tide us through those times of temptation.

Yes, I actually believe God made babies cute so as to ensure the survival of the human race.

(Plus, I didn’t get to do this when Vera was little.)

So, here goes.

Dear baby J, you will never know how adorable you look when you’re feeding yourself silly with mum’s milk.

You would throw punches at me when I dally in feeding you, grunt and huff when the milk is slow in coming (while refusing to let go), and tug (ouch) cos’ you know that helps to speed the milk up.

Oh, the look of drunken satisfaction on your face after a feed, and your toothless grin as you drift off to sleep, as if dreaming of more milk that is to come.

Now at 2 months, you’re ever-so-chatty. You’re our daily entertainment when you’re in play-mode, amusing us with your baby sounds, matched with animated expressions. As if you’re letting us into your baby-world.

Yes, you may be a pain at times, particularly at bedtime, when you’re tired out and finding it hard to get to sleep, and you yell out to be rocked and carried.

But I still believe you’re the happiest, most contented baby I’ve ever met. (Admittedly though, I haven’t been acquainted with many.)

I often gush about how much you look like Vera when she was little, and at how much you both look like me when I was little. (See below.)

Your daddy said to me: “Thank God I like your face. Cos’ I have to look at three of you.”

Oh well.

I have so much to say to you. Hopefully, I’ll remember these as you grow, so I can write more letters. I mean blogposts really, but hey, you know what they are, and they’re from me to you.

Love, mummy