The day after my son turned two I found myself wide awake, thinking of every detail of the last two years. All of his firsts that were the last for me. While watching them grow is such a joy, my mama heart aches for them to just stay little. So here is my letter to my last, my little boy, the one who made our family whole.
To My Last Baby,
Your kicks were the last I’ll ever feel. You’re the last one they’ll place on my chest after we made it through the long, intimate journey that is pregnancy. You’re the last little one I’ll swaddle and the last one I’ll make a bottle for.
You’re my last little one. The one who completed our family and made my heart feel full. Your big blue eyes are the last little ones I’ll rock to sleep, the last ones I’ll wait to open after your first time sleeping through the night. I’ll never forget the nights we spent together after I gave in and just let co-sleeping happen.
You’re the last little hand I’ll hold as you learn to take the first steps. You’re the last one who will need me to kiss your booboos and find your blanket.
While these moments were celebrated as your firsts, I took them in a little deeper. I knew what was coming so I could relax and watch you grow.
Time is so fleeting and I won’t ever get to experience this stage again, so I’m going to soak it all in. Just like I relished all the firsts with your sister, I get to hang on to every last with you. I’ll try to hold on to the sounds, smells and feels of a newborn.
The last onesie. The last swaddle. The last diaper. The last tiny human to steal my heart.