Two Weeks Today

I am sitting here with my wee babe on my lap, slowly getting better at trying to multi-task while holding her. It strikes me that today Isla is two weeks old - an unbelievable milestone as I still cannot wrap my head around the fact that she is even here, let alone that she's been here for two weeks. My ridiculously amazing sister Sam has returned to what I can only imagine is the calm peacefulness of L.A. as compared to the frenzied "vacation" she has had here with us. She stayed with us for the first week we brought Isla home, endlessly cooking, cleaning, laundering and doting on all of us as we got used to the fact that the baby whose arrival we have been anticipating for an eternity is actually here. I would have been so lost without her and I am still navigating around the void Sam left behind as she and her sweet D.R. had to get back to their own lives. In the meantime, it has been a wild ride of tracking feedings, naps and surprises in diapers, learning to function on as little as one-hour sleep intervals, kissing sweet little baby toes at every opportunity, and embracing all of the other baby-centric things that make me an official card-carrying Mom. While so many things are still the same and will remain so, I also cannot believe how different everything seems. People tried to warn me about how much of my time would shift into focusing on Isla, but wow - I don't think I really realized just how true that is! If I am not feeding her, I'm pumping to try to get a backstock of milk going for future car trips, nights when nothing but a bottle will do, or just for those times she can eat with her daddy. My frantic over-purchasing of diapers and wipes before she was born has now turned into "I can't believe we didn't buy more diapers and wipes!" as she charges her way through diaper after diaper. The same goes for the Dreft supply - I thought we'd have enough for the next six months but HOLY BABY LAUNDRY! Didn't see that coming, either! While it certainly has been a period of adjustments, I can in no way complain when I look into that little face staring back at me, with eyes the changing colors of the sea like her father's, asking me to simply love her. And oh, how I love her. I'm still breaking spontaneously into tears at any given moment over her sneezes, her sleepy smiles and her Isla Mousekowitz hiccups. I marvel at her skinny little limbs as she bicycles her legs in disgusted tears over getting her diaper changed, and analyze where she could have possibly gotten her long, elegant fingers that wrap around mine while she eats. Everything she does is a marvel and every moment I spend with her a reminder of how truly lucky I am to be here in this life. I thought I had everything I could have ever wanted when Sean came into my world, and now to look at this little human being we have created together makes it next-to-impossible for me to hold it together when I look into Sean's face, as well. It amazes me that I continue to fall deeper in love with him when it seems the capcity for me to do so has been maximized over and over again. We have been able to enjoy this time with our daughter together, due to the holidays and his winter break from school, so I am cherishing our days even more. With my maternity leave ending the last day of January, I want the days to drag endlessly instead of flying by as they are. Every moment is precious and fleeting, and I just want to spend each one drinking in Isla's sweet breath - sweet like Sean's. Actually, so many of her characteristics are her father's that it has been a challenge to see where I fit into the puzzle. At this point, the best I can say is that I'm pretty sure she has my ears, possibly the shape of my eyes and definitely my penchant for drama. She also balls her hands up by her face as she sleeps with her legs twined endlessly around one another - my go-to sleep position, as well, when afforded the luxury of sleep these days. She is Isla Mousekowitz when she hiccups, Isla Baggins with her long, Hobbit-like feet, and Isla Raptor when she screams for her food. But she is all Isla, all her own, and all ours. I could not be more grateful.