I hope I never forget …
I don’t know if it’s the fact that one of my dearest friends just welcomed her own beautiful little baby boy (sure to be one of your closest friends) …
… or the fact that you, my own little baby, are suddenly teething and Exersaucer-ing and JollyJumper-ing and trying to talk and stand and be this whole REAL PERSON and OMG I’M NOT READY FOR YOU TO GROW UP SO QUICKLY!…
… but I have been feeling so emotional the last couple of nights, as I sit in the dim light of your nursery and rock you.
I am trying to memorize the softness of your skin, the wisps of your hair, the gentle curves of your nose, the creaminess of your complexion, the flush of your cheeks, the squishyness of your fat little fingers. I am trying to drink it all in, and burn it into my memory, so that I never, ever, ever forget it.
You are only three months old, but have already changed SO MUCH from the little eight-and-a-half pounder that came out of my body. When you’re in my arms, you are draped across the entire nursing pillow. Your legs curl up to fit inside the glider with me, and your feet press against the armrest.
You are still so young, I know. But in some ways, you are so old already. You have reached so many milestones so far, and I can’t wait to see what you do next. But I also want time to stand still for just a minute so I can just breathe you in. You are still a little person, and yet not that little of a person, and I can’t decide which without crying.
Parents always say how quickly it goes by, and I am here to tell you — with tears streaming down my face — that it is absolutely, painfully, incredibly true.
All I can do is keep memorizing your face, and stroking your velvety cheeks and your wispy hair and your perfect rosebud lips. I can’t stop you from changing and growing from my little baby into my little boy, but I savor every moment, and pray I don’t ever forget how perfect you are right now.