A Mother in Mourning

To my sweetest baby Theo:

For many mothers, the newborn stage is the hardest one. They look forward longingly, excitedly awaiting the time that their baby will sleep through the night, roll over, sit up, crawl, and walk. They go to bed at night dreaming of what new accomplishment the next day will hold. But not me. You will almost certainly be my last baby. And while I celebrate your arrival and birth into this world, I mourn the passing of each step, the marking of each stage completed. I hold on to each day, in the hope that somehow time will slow down, and you will stay a newborn just a little bit longer.

Yesterday you rolled over for the first time. I was sitting in the rocking chair reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to Jack and Elliot. Mattie was lying on the floor next to you. We all watched as you rolled on to your side many times, pausing in our reading to laugh and giggle as you got closer and closer to making it all the way over. And then you did it. All by yourself.

Last night I put you to bed without swaddling you, for the first time in your life. You took a few extra minutes to fall asleep, wiggling in an arc around your bed. But, then you slept soundly all night long. You showed me that you were ready to take that step, and move on.

It's hard in a house full of four busy boys to stop what I'm doing and just take in the moment. But, I try to as often as I can. I treasure every minute of your baby stages, knowing they will be my last. And so, as often as I can, I hold you just a little bit closer. I keep you in my arms just a little bit longer. I give you one more extra kiss on your soft face. I smell your sweet baby smell one more time. I let you nurse forever, and hold you asleep in my arms. I close my eyes and make a wish that this day will never end.