Pacing.

(written on Thursday, February 13, 2014) 

the ground beneath me is sinking as I pound my feet walking back and forth, hoping my wee child will eventually grow tired and exhale a deep sigh, casting relief on both of us.

Her poor body trembles in my arms as it suffers its first cold. Her wee lungs cough and her body shakes, what is she to do with this new and unpleasant sensation. She cries and big tears roll down her cheeks, I pace.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

I rub her back whispering sweet nothings in her ear. I tell her she is so very loved. Singing as I sway and walk.

4:30 am quickly rolls through and becomes 6:30 and I finally am able to lay her head to rest in her bed. My legs are stiff, aching, tired. My body longs for rest. I walk to my room and lay myself out on the bed, sleep falls upon me like gravity and all to quickly is taken away.

A cough.

A cry.

My baby awakes. Again she heaves her aching lungs and fills the house with her own little earthquake. I roll over hoping I just imagined such a sound. Again she cries. I force myself out of bed, her cries pull me to her room. She sees me and her face fills with relief as she heaves heavy breaths, her bottom lip bulges in the most heart wrenching pout. 
I rock her in my arms.

Back and forth. 

As we walk the small hall back to my bedroom. She pulls herself into me nestling her head against my chest, and nurses. She is rhythmic. Her poor nose so congested she struggles as she nurses, latching and re-latching as she soothes herself with my milk. I stroke her hair and cheek, damp with tears and sweat. It was a hard night. As she nurses she slowly slips back to sleep. She is mine, I am hers.

8/52

A Portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014

Isla: This photo captures you so perfectly. You are such a happy baby with such zest for life. You start each day so eagerly and find such fun in the simplest of things. I hope you never lose this excitement and enthusiasm for life.

We call this wee corner in our house, where all the doors meet, Isla's corner. It seems to be her favourite place in our house. She sits in the corner babbling to herself laughing and smiling as she crawls from door to door knocking on them and trying to push them open. If dad or mom are behind one of the doors she babbles as them and smiles when we respond then continues to knock and babble at us. It is one of the sweetest things and it keeps her so entertained for so long. I am truly enjoying this stage of discovery and so love the way she is so excited about everything around her. She brings me such joy.

7/52

A Portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014.

Isla: I love how much you love your stuffies, you love snuggling into them and are always so happy to play with them. Kissing them and hugging them. You are such an affectionate little lady.

I have been feeling like I can't keep up lately with taking photos. This girl keeps moving and all I have been getting are images of a blurry girl. Time is moving so fast and so is my little lady, we are quickly rounding the bend of a year, and I feel like I need to take a breath. She is such a mover, and is so very strong willed, we will be so very busy once this baby starts walking and she is so close. She just goes, and goes, and goes, and goes, she doesn't stop.

6/52

A Portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014.

Isla: My dear girl the way your hair sticks up and does its own thing makes me smile. This last week you have become much more strong willed and have thrown a few tantrums in hopes of getting things your way. You are becoming more and more able to communicate your wants to us too, signing, pointing, grunting at us to be sure. Your a little spitfire full of spunk, I am excited to see what you have in store for us.

5/52

A Portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014

Isla: This little lady is a watcher, always observing and taking in her surroundings. I love to see her eyes taking in everything around her, excited as they look in all directions. I look forward to hearing her little voice speak all her observations.

A Letter

Dear Isla,

You are quickly approaching your eleventh month of life and it seems as though we are running quickly to that milestone of one year of age. How is it that my wee child, my little baby girl, YOU are almost a year old. I feel like this year has gone so slow in some spots but light speed in others. Your body now wraps around me as I nurse, once you fit in only one arm. Your little hands reach up to me and your fingers try to play in my mouth as I feed you. You smile between gulps and so love the conversation we have with our smiles and our eyes. 

On the day you were born I was consumed with such an overwhelming sense of love, I had a hard time believing you were mine, now I look at you and in some many ways it is like a reflection. Not because you look like me, which you do, but because in so many ways your are a deep strong part of me. I can't imagine my life without you. You have consumed my thoughts, my heart and my mind. You are MINE.

You are such a social girl, crawling all over determined to meet others and be the center of attention. You draw people in with your smiling eyes and your infectious giggle. You are a happy girl, most of the time, and love to play! You are BUSY...you like to go! go! go! Except when your sad, or hurt, then your body trembles and big tears build up in your eyes, your arms so quickly reach up for me and you snuggle your head into my chest. My body aches when you cry. Sometimes you are sad because you are hurt, sometimes your are sad because you want something you can't have, or sometimes you are sad because you just need to be held. Thankfully, for the most part you are VERY happy.

My dear girl you still have so much growing to do and so much knowledge to learn and I am sure the years will flash right by, but I want you to know deep down in your heart that you are SO LOVED. In this moment, in this year, at this age, from the moment you were conceived and forever more you are LOVED.