Liam Mercury McCourtney-Wolf is nine months old today.
He has been outside of my body for two weeks longer than he was in it.
He has his two front bottom teeth and just this week he started sprouting his top right tooth. He has three alongside it just waiting to break the surface. He sleeps through the night next to me in bed and he's a total bed hog. Every morning he wakes up before me and will touch my cheek or try to stick his thumb up my nose. On the days (every other Sunday) when I get to sleep in, I often wake up later to the sound of Gabe making our son laugh.
He's been crawling like a champ ever since he figured it out. Cautiously at first, now with no fear or reservation. He pulls himself up to stand on everything he thinks might hold him and has figured out that the drying rack is not one of those things. He just does it more slowly. When he pulls himself up to stand in his pack & play or in front of the couch he'll walk along the edge to his heart's content. Sometimes he'll let go with one hand, turn away, and try to step away, only to fall to his knees or bum.
He has the softest skin. He likes to hold hands. He likes it if you sniff him or the air around him and say, "Ohhhh, stinky!" which started with his feet and is now a big hit with his diaper. He loves to eat fruit, Gerber puffs and teething biscuits. He likes to cuddle while he sleeps. He likes to take baths. He loves to bounce. He loves to sneeze. He weighs about twenty pounds. He just tried his first sippy cup last week and thought it was pretty fun.
When he smiles right at me, or touches my cheek, I seriously feel infinite. This kid loves me more than he knows, without even knowing what love really is. He just feels it and expresses it. It's beautiful.
He has to have eye surgery. He was born with an eye muscle that is too short and so his right eye doesn't always focus forward as it should. It's pulled outward. It's called strabismus. We're doing research and getting second (and maybe third and fourth) opinions. The pediatric ophthalmologist that we went to said that he'll need the surgery before he's four. I am really scared about Liam being under anesthesia, about the healing process, and my own ability to be strong for him while he heals. Because I am a cryer, and this is my son, and seeing his come out of anesthesia or in pain afterwards just seems like more than I can handle. Even though this surgery would do him well.
He's been wearing a patch on his left eye for two hours a day to try and strengthen up the muscle in the right eye so that it'll focus forward. The first time we put it on he wasn't so happy about it and ripped it off. He's getting better with it now. Sometimes it doesn't even look like he needs it.
He's nine months old and I cannot believe it. Didn't I just hold a warm and wet seven and a half pound newborn in my arms?
Happy Nine Months, Sweet Baby.
Best Smile, Class of 2025