A Poem for Phoebe at Four Months
For Phoebe, Four Months
Was she ever that small? Was she ever that little?
she had to be
her clothes don’t fit and she’s squished in her car seat and someone comments on how
But to you, Mama, she’s still small.
It doesn’t even occur to you that she’s grown until the onesie
won’t fit over her head.
Then you realize
she’s no different to you because you see her every day. But she has grown.
The memories of her as a soft little newborn are fading.
(But it’s only been four months.)
It’s been four months?
The vivid memory of birth was 120+ days ago?
You’ve been a Mama that long?
But look at THAT newborn baby. Your baby isn’t like that anymore.
And I suppose it’ll be like this forever, won’t it, Mama?
With that startled look on your face when someone says, She’s grown!
(She seems the same to me every day. Though I suppose it must be true, she’s grown…because these little shoes that once were so big don’t fit on her feet
But truly she’s not growing up. No, she’s still The Baby.
You have all the time in the world with her as a baby.
Wait…! She’s grown…
And now you see.
Your days are short.
She doesn’t stop growing.
You just stop remembering how little she once was.