Nostalgia and new pages
I always feel sentimental and nostalgic at the close of a year. This time last year I was pregnant. The new year began with rain and itchy, swollen feet (according to my diary), but what I remember is a sizzling summer, days on the beach and the feel of the cool seawater against my enormous belly.
My beautiful moonbeam baby entered the world right at the end of January – ten hot days late. We were so excited to have her in our lives. She slept so well between about two and four months, but then started to wake during the night. All my exuberance and delight at having a bigger family, melted into exhaustion and daytime catnaps and endless lethargy. The tiredness cast a shadow over my own identity and happiness but through the fuzz I still delighted at watching her grow and learn to smile, wave, point, crawl, stand and climb. There was no stopping her- she had to keep up with her brother and copy whatever he did.
Then, by some miracle, over the last month, her sleeping has improved again and sometimes she sleeps through, or just wakes once. This is enough to give me hope for the New Year; hope that it will get easier and I will look in the mirror soon and see - not a bleary-eyed lady who hasn’t had time to brush her hair – but an energetic woman with tidy hair, clean clothes and stories to tell. I’m going to accomplish so much! Or if not, I will at least feel like it for the next day or two. In my poetry, I reflect on resolutions and the delight of imagining what the future may hold.