Anyone who has read at least a couple of my blog posts will be aware that I am just not impressed at the rate of growth in babies, or more specifically, my little girl. We don’t go to get weighed every two weeks, as we ‘should’ and she’s not been to the doctor for anything other than her six week checkup so far, but I have no fear of ‘Failure to Thrive’ with her. In fact, quite the opposite.

When I was pregnant, I spent countless, sick, exhausted, sleepless nights researching what was wrong with me (Hyperemesis Gravidarum), and finding out how best to be pregnant healthily. I failed miserable, and barely ate for the first 18 weeks or so, then was hospitalised with severe dehydration. I spent the next 12 weeks recovering from what felt like a long term illness. I was tired and weak most of the time. Then the final 10 weeks I slept. A lot. I was very tired. But I used my awake time wisely.

I researched, studied, prepared, learned. I knew exactly what I was expecting in labour. I watched videos. I read books. I looked up herbs. I made lists. I was ready for labour, and it paid off. It was a good experience.

I even prepared for being a mom. By this I mean, I read the ‘becoming a dad’ books, (because they were always so much lighter and less ‘your life is over’ than the mom’s books) and we attended a pediatric first aid course, and a fantastic antenatal class. Sofie was great. We learned how to put on a nappy, how to swaddle, how to feed. We learned about poo, about fevers, about wind. I learned a lot from her, and I am very grateful.

But nothing, nowhere, not a book, a friend, a fellow mom, a class or a chatroom prepared me for the actual fact of having a baby. And really, how could they. It’s something only experience can teach. But we cope. Every mother does, and so the world stays populated.

What gets me most is the growing. Every day, so fast. Blink and you miss out. Smiles, focusing eyes, reaching hands. IMG_0054

Why today especially? Because I’m still in denial.

Ameli has a Moses basket in our room, and a thus far unused travel cot in her own room.

I’d like to move the travel cot in to our room, because her room is totally unused at the moment, except for the changing table attached to the travel cot.

I’d like to move the travel cot in to our room, because I could use the space to move some things from the kitchen, and have more space in the kitchen, since her bouncy chair and her laundry basket now take up half the room.

I’d like to move the travel cot in to our room, because it makes sense.

So why do I keep putting it off, despite my annoyance at lack of space in the kitchen?

Because I can’t take her out of her Moses basket yet.  She’s supposed to be able to use it till she’s three months old. Moving her in to the cot is admitting how much she’s grown, even though she’s only two months now.

I sound like a broken record, I know, but I’m just not ready for her to move in to the big cot. As my husband says, we can never go back to the Moses basket. Once its over, its over.

Can someone tell me please, at what stage of motherhood am I supposed to be okay with how fast these days just slip away?


To cot or not to cot?

  1. My little girl slept In MY bed till she was 6 months old. She decided it was time to move out. I think babies often make their own mind about these things. You might wait till you see feet poking out the bottom or your baby sat up in the basket :0)

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