I miss my little Roo today. I didn't miss her all day, but my apartment is quiet and lonely, and on nights like this when I don't have anything to do, it's a little harder to see pictures of other people's pregnancies and babies and not miss my newborn Roo and the time I spent as her mother.
I wish I could go back in time, just for a few minutes. I'd go back to when Roo was about six weeks old. She was very snuggly. She'd rest her little noggin right on top of my heart, cheek squished against my sternum, and sleep for hours. I think that part of the reason she has such a nice round head is that she only slept on her back at night. I nearly always held her at nap time, listening to her breathe while she slept. At the time I felt a little guilty for idling so much, but I am so thankful now for the dozens of hours I spent holding her while she dreamed. I couldn't have imagined then how precious those memories would be.
I wish I could inhabit one of those moments right now. Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago that I was pregnant, that I had a baby, that I was a mother. I can hardly believe it was only two years ago that I was pregnant.
Sometimes I wish I could go back to my pregnancy, too. Fibromyalgia aside, pregnancy agreed with me. I enjoyed it. I loved the feel of Roo's tiny feet kicking at me from the inside. I miss that. I miss knowing that no matter what the future might hold, at that moment my baby girl was safe and warm and mine.
Not that I worry about Roo at all. I know that she's safe and warm and well-fed and happy, in addition to being darling and sweet and the cleverest toddler in the world. But the Roo that I miss and the Roo who will be two in a few months are different Roos. I love Roo with my whole heart and I always will, but she's not mine.
Newborn Roo was mine. That's who I miss. But it's okay, you know? I can miss my itty-bitty baby and I still feel okay. I mean, it's not fantastic fun, but I haven't even cried my eye makeup off. I could totally still leave the house without scaring people.
It's nice to be able to miss baby Roo and not be devastated by it. I suppose I could be devastated by it, if I allowed myself. But I don't. It's no longer a productive part of my grief. In the wise words of Albus Dumbledore, "It does not to do dwell on dreams and forget to live." Missing Roo is a part of living. It's just not the biggest part.
I miss my little Roo today. And I'm okay.