I am no longer a mother to a baby. My younger child is now three years old and officially a preschooler. She is my last child. I almost broke down in tears the other day thinking about not having another baby. A baby is not a baby for long. The time is fleeting. It is often a blur. There never seems to be a way to fully appreciate every second. There certainly is no way to hang onto the seconds as sadly they pass by too quickly. I have no desire to be pregnant or give birth but there is a part of me that grieves the loss of a dream in the form of little hands and feet.
I wonder if there was a way for me to hang onto the days longer or if I did not appreciate it enough. I will never hold another baby that is mine again. I will never nurse another baby. I will never fall asleep holding a sweet angel in my arms after a 2 a.m. feeding. I will never marvel at tiny little feet that represent a love between me and my husband. I will never wish my baby would get past teething. I will never see a reflection of my husband’s eyes on a precious little life look up at me again. It saddens me. I feel like a part of my life is over. I feel that way because it is…it is over. I will never be a mother to a newborn again. I would give anything to go back in time and hold each of my children during those precious newborn days. I cannot say I wished I held them more as I am not sure that is possible. I remember sitting on the couch the first week I was home from the hospital with my third baby. I remember thinking that I held her almost 100 percent of my time. I don’t regret a single minute.
I know being a mom of a baby is not always easy. I have been down that road four times. I am no stranger to crying, fussing, and a lack of sleep. I would do it all again.