Nine in, Nine out

Hank turned nine months old today! From here on out, he will be on the outside longer than he was on the inside. Nine in, nine out.

I've been giving a lot of thought to this concept of 'nine in, nine out' -- the idea that it takes nine months on the inside to create the baby, and nine months of 'extrogestation' on the outside to finish the baby off. I think nine in, nine out should also include the idea that it takes that second nine month period for the mom to feel like herself again and for the parents to really adjust to their new roles.

As far as I'm concerned, there was a moment about a week ago when I felt like I had finally really recovered from pregnancy. I realized that I finally feel like myself, physically; have the energy I used to have; and have a mental and emotional clarity that seemed to have been fogged over for quite a long time, between the stress of pregnancy and the sleep deprivation of motherhood. I feel like I don't need to panic or stress out or over analyze every thing that Hank is doing anymore -- instead I feel like whatever is going to happen, is whatever is going to happen, and we can handle things as they come. The constant changeability of parenthood seems to be less of a challenge to me now -- rather it just is our new normal, and the fact that the status quo around here constantly changes is, in and of itself, a consistency that I am finally comfortable with.

(well, I'm comfortable with it for now!)

As for the baby, well, in some ways it feels as though he really is fully cooked, now that he's been out for nine months, that he can stop being 'a baby' and start becoming a boy, a man. He seems in so many ways not a baby any longer, but a tiny human. And while I can look at him and recognize that he is the same baby that he was, he's almost unrecognizable at the same time. In the last couple of weeks he's clearly begun to express opinions, preferences, dislikes. He waves and asks for milk with sign language. He speaks to us in distinct syllables that reflect what he's feeling. 'Muh muh muh muh', when he's sad or anxious. 'Deh, deh, deet, deet, dah', when he's happy. 'Ba ba ba ba ba', when content and engrossed in something. 'Bwuh, bwuh, bwuh, bwuh', when he's crying. When he stands at his gate, or at his toy shelves, he sometimes shoots me a look as if to say 'uh, mom, you wanna give me some space, please?'. I'll often notice things have gotten too quite and I'll come in to find him sitting in front of his toy basket, removing each toy carefully, methodically inspecting each one, and setting them each aside.

We've been watching a lot of the Olympic coverage, and I've found myself surprised to be looking at these athletes, especially the males, and thinking of them as Someone's Son, and watching the parents in the stands looking on, and finding that I can sort of imagine how proud they must be of their kids. We feel such pride for Hank's tiny accomplishments like learning to 'clap hands!', that I get weak in the knees thinking how proud I am going to be of him at his bigger accomplishments in life, whatever they may be. Sky's the limit, kid. Right?