Issue # 12

it's not always linear

My son has been teething since he was 4.5 months old.
Early. Intense. Nonstop.

We’re currently working on his 9th and 10th teeth, the upper canines, which usually don’t show up until well past the one-year mark. So it makes sense that so much of his little body’s energy is going into that. It doesn’t mean he’s not growing in other ways. But it’s been… a lot.

And he’s nearly 8 months now, but hasn’t figured out any kind of crawling. He’ll reach for a toy and roll to his tummy, but until recently, he wouldn’t stay there for more than a few seconds. He’d grab what he wanted, roll back, and carry on playing.

I know that babies develop at their own pace. I know it’s not a race. But still… there’s that whisper in the back of my mind:

Other babies are crawling.
Is he behind?
Am I doing enough?

It’s not competitiveness. It’s just this deep desire to see him thrive. Okay, maybe there's a little competitiveness, the pressure, however subconscious, to keep up.

I’ve been trying everything to encourage crawling. Then, I discovered the most powerful motivator isn’t a toy or a prop or a technique.

It’s me.

When I sit a few feet away and gently call to him, or smile at him and talk to him from afar, he rolls to his tummy and tries. He strains, scooches, wiggles, plants his palms.

He doesn’t get very far. But he’s trying. He’s trying to get to me.

And I have to remind myself: that effort is enough. He’s not behind. He’s just busy doing things in a different order.

He can drink from an open cup better than most babies his age. He eats with joy. He’s growing. He’s fine. More than fine.

And I’m still learning that loving him means guiding, yes, but also letting go. Letting go of timelines. Of milestones. Of the fantasy that I can do everything right, and everything will unfold neatly.

Because I can’t and it won’t.

Because that’s not how love works, or growth. Y'know?

Forever figuring out how to raise this human I created,

Aurooba