Tomorrow, Matthew will be four weeks old. At once it seems like we brought him home yesterday, and it seems like we’ve lived our entire lives with Matthew by our sides.

A couple of weeks ago when my mom was still here (we have had a stream of visitors that just ended this past Monday), she and I took Matthew with us to my OB’s office - I’d had flu-like symptoms and the chills, plus an engorged and sore breast, and my OB thought it might be mastitis, so he asked me to come on up. It wasn’t mastitis - I caught the symptoms and held them at bay just in the nick of time, and it turns out one of my ducts was a little on the cloggy side. As he and the staff oohed and aahed over Matthew, Dr. K asked me, “So, what’s it like being a mom?”

I laughed and said, “Tired!” Flippant, and true, to be sure, but man, a loaded question if there ever was one. I’ve thought about it ever since and I’m not sure I know what being a mom is like yet. I’m only four weeks in.

What I do know is that when Matthew is alert and quiet, we’ll have moments together where we just stare at each other - his deep grey blue eyes lock onto mine. I’ll talk quietly to him or read him a book (this is what I read him yesterday). I kiss him - I can’t resist his cheeks - they demand to be kissed! We nap together - sometimes we lay together in bed, either he nurses from me or I tuck him into the crook of my arm. More often than not, that’s how we’ll sleep a portion of our sleep at night - him tucked between Josh and me. I never thought I’d do the co-sleeping thing, and believe me, once he gets more settled into a routine, he will be spending more time on his own (at the foot of our bed is his basinette/crib/thing, so he’s not far away by any means), but for now, I’m enjoying it. I usually toss and turn at night but I’m perfectly content now to lay on my right side, protecting him from the edge of the bed.

Matthew cried today when his diaper was wet - we’d gotten back from a trip to Borders and Josh changed a very wet and poopy diaper - but by then Matthew had reached his limit and was pissed off. He cried and wailed and shouted until he was clean again - but he’d started his wailing on the sidewalk outside our building, so he’d had a good amount of time to work up to a huge rant. By the time we got back to the apartment, tears were forming at his eyes. Josh hurriedly changed his diaper, and all was well in his world again. He cried real tears, and that brought tears to my eyes. I know it was bound to happen - tears are an inevitable part of babies’ lives, but in a way, I feel like we caused those tears to spring and knowing that, that I can love and cause tears in the eyes of my baby, and that it’s inevitable, makes me sad. All I want to do is protect him from evils of this world, whether it’s Ava slobber or the monster underneath the bed, and I know I won’t be able to. That inability to do so will be my undoing. I want to do right by this child. I want him to know he is loved and he is free to love. I know I’m going to let him down sometimes.

I’m sorry, Matthew, for those times I let you down. I don’t mean to, and I’ll always, always try to do better.

So, Dr. K, what’s being a mom like? Right now, it’s still tiring (I’m making sure to nap when I can), but it’s also amazing (check those eyes out), heartbreaking, tearjerking, and I can’t wait to see what else this new job entails. All in all, though? Not a bad gig by any means.