It also fades memories of caring for a newborn.

My son, Oliver, was born just two years ago, but I’ve already find myself struggling to remember what it was like during those first whirlwind, sleep-deprived weeks. My husband and I joke it’s a defence mechanism – otherwise we may have thought twice before diving into parenthood again.

As we care for our new son, Henry, who arrived just two weeks ago, it often feels like we are steering into uncharted waters. We remembered babies seem to eat and poop a great deal and sleep very little, but we forgot how much they eat and poop and how fleeting those two hour intervals of sleep can seem – especially at 4 a.m.

With the eating and pooping comes laundry. Lots of laundry. Henry needs more daily outfit changes than a Hollywood diva. The other day, he peed through eight onsies and receiving blankets and even managed to soak my husband’s clothes. Twice. Luckily the sound of a spinning dryer is soothing to a sleepy newborn.

While newborns may sleep as much as 16 hours a day, they don’t always like to sleep in their own beds. I take it for granted now that I can put Oliver into his crib at nap or bedtime and he’ll soothe himself to sleep. Not so with Henry. While he’ll doze off easily in my arms, it’s a challenge to transfer him to his bassinet without waking him up. I find myself cringing with every creak of a floorboard as I ease him into bed slowly and carefully, holding my breath, as though I’m handling a ticking time bomb. More often than not, he’ll stir, his eyes will pop open and I’ll have to start the process all over again.

And while I feel much more confident nursing Henry than I did Oliver, breastfeeding certainly doesn’t come easily. My breast hurt, my back aches and I am perpetually covered in spit up. I forgot babies spit up what looks like an alarming amount of milk, although experts assure new moms it’s really very little. Most of the milk does stay in their bellies.

I forgot how tiny newborn babies are. While eight pounds can seem so heavy when you’re lifting free weights in the gym, it feels feather light when you’re holding a baby in your arms. Especially when you’ve grown accustomed to hoisting a 30-pound toddler in and out of car seats, highchairs and cribs.

I’ve also forgotten how fragile and vulnerable their wee bodies feel. While Oliver loves to be thrown over our shoulders and turned upside down, we take such care with Henry to support his head which he isn’t yet strong enough to hold up on his own. We also cradle him close to our bodies so he isn’t left flailing his thin arms and legs, much to his great alarm. He seems to like nothing more than curling up on my chest, his legs tucked into my belly, to fall asleep – a comfort Oliver has long outgrown.

Every time I pick up Henry, I marvel at the softness of his skin. I’ve forgotten there’s nothing more intoxicating than a newborn’s sweet baby smell and nothing more addictive than the feel of the downy hair on his wee head. I’ve forgotten how easy it is to spend hours looking at a baby as they sleep or turn their head towards your voice, eyes open, and tentatively meet your gaze.

What I haven’t forgotten is how wonderful it is to hold a baby and know they’re yours.

-- Sarah Green

   sarahg@babyontheway.ca