Tag: newborn

She Came. She Sang. He Slept.

Vuvu boy! The first few days after bringing you home were magical and overwhelming but equally tiring. Sleepless nights, endless feeds, and the constant worry of “Are we doing this right?” became part of our everyday life. That’s when your japa nurse, Nomita aunty entered our home — and quietly became our lifesaver.

There were moments when you were completely inconsolable. No amount of rocking, feeding, or cuddling seemed to help. That’s when she would gently scoop you into her arms and walk around the house or sit at one place for hours if needed. Her patience felt endless. Watching her calm you with nothing but love and rhythm was nothing short of a miracle.

On nights when exhaustion took over me, she became my strength. There were times she held you through the night so I could finally rest. While I slept, she stayed awake — rocking, soothing, whispering lullabies into your tiny ears. Knowing my baby was safe in her arms allowed me to breathe again.

She didn’t just care for you — she filled our home with joy. She sang sweet Bengali songs (your favorite being Aay Aay Paakhi) that made your tiny eyes slowly close. She danced around the room just to bring a smile to a little face. Sometimes it looked like a private concert meant only for you.

What made her truly special was her spirit. She was always smiling and chatting with our family, turning even the most tiring days into lighter ones. She was constantly joking around, spreading laughter wherever she went. She had the heart of a child — playful, warm, and full of life — and yet the wisdom of someone who truly knew how to care for a newborn.

Most of all, she loved what she did. You could see it in the way she held you, in the way she spoke softly, in the way she never rushed a moment. This was never just a job for her — it was her calling.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. For us, your japa aunty was that village in one person. Her hands gave us rest. Her songs gave you comfort. Her laughter gave our home happiness.

We will forever be grateful for the woman who walked into our lives when we needed help the most — and left behind memories we will carry forever.

February 19, 2026
A Year of Firsts: Welcoming 2026 With You

As the calendar turns and the world steps into 2026, Sharva, you are just one month old. You don’t know what a “new year” is yet. You don’t know about resolutions, countdowns, or fireworks. Right now, your whole universe is made of warm arms, familiar voices, milk, sleep, and the simple comfort of being held. And yet, this New Year feels bigger and more meaningful than any before it—because it is our first one with you.

Before you arrived, life was full, busy, and familiar. Days moved quickly. Nights were quiet. Plans were made far in advance, and time felt predictable. We didn’t realize how much space there was in our hearts until you showed us. Life before you wasn’t empty—it just didn’t yet know what it was missing.

Then you arrived. In an instant, everything changed. Time slowed down and sped up all at once. Nights became shorter, days felt softer, and the smallest moments suddenly mattered the most. A tiny stretch, a yawn, the way you curl your fingers around ours—these became the highlights of our days. You made ordinary moments extraordinary simply by being here.

Life after your arrival is louder in some ways and quieter in others. There is less sleep, but more meaning. Less routine, but more wonder. We see the world differently now, because we see it through the lens of loving you. You have already taught us patience, presence, and a deeper kind of joy than we ever knew before.

And now we step into 2026 together.

This year will be special—not because we know exactly what it will bring, but because it will be filled with your firsts. Your first smiles, your first laughs, your first words, your first discoveries of the world around you. You will grow more each day, and we will grow alongside you, learning how to be the people—and family—you need.

When you read this someday, you might be much older. You might not remember these early days. But know this: as 2026 began, you were deeply loved. You were our greatest hope, our biggest change, and our favorite part of the future. And you were part of a family that includes not only people who adore you but also your fur sisters: one here to grow up with you, and one watching over you from heaven.

This year wasn’t just a new year.
It was the beginning of a life we couldn’t imagine before you.

Welcome to 2026, little man.
We’re so glad we get to walk into it with you. ❤️

Slumber Party on New Year’s Eve, 31st December 2025

January 1, 2026
The Legend of the Monkey Boy

In the quiet hours of the day, there’s a tiny boy who rules the house. He’s small, warm, and brand new, with fingers that curl like they already know how to hold on. He is my newborn baby boy Sharva, though around here he goes by his official nickname: Monkey Boy.

After a feeding, when it’s burping time, Monkey Boy transforms. Suddenly, he’s no longer a sleepy newborn—he’s a tiny jungle creature clinging for survival. He presses himself against whoever is holding him, clinging with surprising determination. His little hands latch onto shirts, fingers, collars, and occasionally hair, as if gravity has personally offended him. Letting go is not an option.

He presses his face into your chest, curls his legs in, and holds on with a strength that makes you wonder if he’s secretly been doing pull-ups when no one’s watching. Then, just when you start to think he’s forgotten why he’s there—BURP. A small, victorious sound, followed by an even tighter cling, like he’s proud of himself and wants a round of applause.

Monkey Boy doesn’t know much yet, but he knows how to burp like a champ and cling like a pro. He knows how to hold on, and he does it with his whole heart. And somehow, between the burps and the baby grip of doom, he manages to make everyone laugh—and fall even more in love with him. 🐒💙

The Monkey Boy Burping with his favorites

December 10, 2025
Stitches, Swaddles, and Sleepless Nights

The first week after you were born was quiet, blurry, and full of love. My body was healing from major abdominal surgery, and every movement reminded me that bringing you into the world took strength I didn’t know I had. Still, every time I held you, the discomfort faded into the background.

You woke at the most random hours—middle of the night, early morning, moments when the world felt completely still. Sleep no longer followed a clock. I fed you in soft, dim light, holding you close while you nursed. Breastfeeding wasn’t always easy at first, but each feed felt like a small victory we shared together.

Those nights were when I truly began to know you. I noticed the way you wrapped your fingers around mine, how your breathing slowed once you were full, how safe you felt resting on my chest. We were both learning—me learning how to be your mother, and you learning the world, one gentle moment at a time.

But you were never held by just me. Your dad was there from the very beginning—steady, patient, and full of love. He lifted you when my body needed rest, changed you in the quiet hours, and made sure I was okay so I could take care of you. Your dadi, motamummy, motapappa, chachu were just as much a part of those first few days. They watched over you with endless care, helped soothe you, stayed awake with us and wrapped all of us in comfort when everything felt new and overwhelming.

That first week wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy—but it was full. Full of hands that held you, hearts that adored you, and a family that showed up for you in every way. From the very start, you were surrounded by love, support, and warmth.

Always remember this: you were nourished, protected, and deeply loved—not by one person, but by athe enitre family—right from your very first days.

💙🧿

December 7, 2025