Little Man is finally starting to outgrow some of his clothing.

It’s bittersweet, I’m torn.

On the one hand, I’m emotionally attached to nearly every article of clothing in his possession. Each item was either a thoughtful gift from a loved one,  or one we hand-selected while waiting to bring him home– when he was just a sad, sweet baby boy in a photograph. There’s also the fact that, as grateful as we are for the time we have with him, we grieve the 20 months of his life that we missed. Being (most likely) our last baby compounds the sentiment, further. I’m grateful a second cousin, exactly one year and a day his junior, can squeeze a second life from them. If I can bear to part with them, that is. 

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On the other hand, we are so pleased and proud of his growth! I recall, with our daughters, a certain sense of pride and satisfaction in realization that their rapid growth came from the miracle of milk produced in my own body. This is similar, but different. Though I’m not breastfeeding, we are very deliberately and painstakingly feeding him an almost exclusively organic, vegetable dense, balanced and wholesome diet, ripe with nutrients. In addition to his growth in size, his increased strength, boundless energy, thicker hair, and glowing skin are the tangible fruits of that labor.

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Though we were told to expect weight loss as he recovered from his recent cleft palate surgery, only a single pound was initially lost and today his physician noted a two and a half pound GAIN. It doesn’t sound like much, but when you consider it equals over 10% of his total body-weight (the equivalent of 15 lbs. for a 150 lb. adult), you understand why we celebrate. Can you believe this sweet boy is in the 31st percentile for weight and 76th for height?!

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