A Moment

I read the sweetest post about the innocence of a child and the fleeting of time today over at World of One Thousand Different Things. I had already posted two other times today (I guess I'm a little anxious today), but her lovely words prompted me to write.

Today, after getting the approval from our pediatrician, we decided to introduce J to solids. He is just shy of his fifth month. Although I was adamant that he not start solids until six months, I couldn't deny his enthusiasm as he watched me eat. He would ooh and ahh. He smiled and giggled as each morsel entered my mouth. I took to entertaining him with a soft, gleeful growl as I munched on the food. He recently started to reach out for my hand, then the fork or spoon, and then my mouth, as if he could catch the food before it went down. I felt like an Olympic Athlete performing the most amazing feat when he watched me eat. I was amazing in his eyes. So, I knew it was time . . .

I mixed the rice cereal with my milk and daddy and I set the stage. Knees together, bib in place, bowl in my lap, J is his daddy's lap, spoon in hand, we began. The first bite was near perfection. There was no thrusting action by his tongue as the watery cereal went cleanly down. Another spoonful and a little dribbled down his chin. I caught it and returned it to his open mouth. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't giggling. He WAS amazed. He got a little restless as we started the next bite. Daddy and I began the gleeful growl that usually results in an ear-to-ear grin. He took another bite--more dribble. Then . . . the lip. Next . . . the tears.

Within moments J had fallen into a complete meltdown. T (husband) wanted to try just one more bite. Deep inside I knew what was wrong and knew another bite simply would not calm him. I took him into my arms and handed the food to T. J furiously clawed at my top. He looked up at me with tears streaming down his face and the milky cereal collecting at the corners of his mouth. The cries were hard and silent as he tried to catch his breath. I knew. Within moments he latched on. I looked down at his little face. His eyes, still tear-filled, stared back at me as if to say, "Why?" His body relaxed and as it did it spoke volumes. "Will I ever get my milk again?" That spoon. That bowl. That cereal. It was all so new to him. He had no idea what it meant--was this his new food source? Would this be it? No more Mommy Milk? I felt his little hands clasp my shirt and his body curl around mine. His eyes never left my face.

This was all so new for him. I often forget, and I thank Aliki2006 for reminding me, that each and every experience is so new for J. He has no idea what it is, will it last, will it happen again, will I come back, where I went . . . no idea. He's learning fast, but at the same time it is often a scary, amazing, happy, terrifying, sad, upsetting time for him. It makes me cherish each moment--because each moment is just that, a moment. A moment that will only happen once in his lifetime and once in mine.