Faelen at one month.

Lately I have been absent from this space.  In fact, I could probably say I have been absent from all aspects of my before life.  Faelen takes up no small amount of time.

Tomorrow Faelen will be a month old.  Who could believe, after nine months of anticipation and waiting, nine months of gathering, preparing and imagining, that my newborn boy is no longer a newborn.  His puffy face and red features have settled into the soft pinks of a baby.
  

This morning, like every morning, I woke at 5:30am to the sound of Faelen deciding he was done with sleep.  I pulled him, toasty in his sleepsuit, from the moses basket by my side into our bed.  Then, like every morning, he fed whilst staring at the fairy lights around the bed before resuming sleeping, curled tightly on my chest.  At 7am we continue with our morning routine; I dress whilst he tries to find his hands or energetically kicks his feet, then I change and dress him.

This routine, despite its newness in my life, feels so familiar. The nervousness I used to feel pulling sleeves over his small hands has already been replaced with an efficiency learnt through countless changes.  The nappy changes which once took a delicate and painstaking fifteen minutes are now an streamlined procedure, completed before Faelen has time to decide he wants to cry.  

This morning however, unlike other mornings, there was a small change.  This morning I had to accept my tiny, curled up snail baby, has grown.  Faelen no longer fits the small, perfect clothes of a new born.  Today he is wearing his first item for babies aged up to three months.  I know as milestones go there are plenty bigger coming our way, but this was the first moment I realised how quickly our time together is racing.