19 Mar 2015

She Held Him

In the middle of the night when my boy is resolutely awake and will only settle on me, I begin to feel emotional. I read an article a while back in the Huffington Post that touched me and I always think about it at my lowest ebb because it's very true. It was '10 Things Your Mom Never Told You'

"She carried you a lot longer than nine months. You needed her to. So she did. She would learn to hold you while she cleaned; she would learn to hold you while she ate; she would even hold you while she slept, because it was the only way she could sometimes. Her arms would get tired, her back would hurt, but she held you still because you wanted to be close to her. She snuggled you, loved you, kissed you and played with you. You felt safe in her arms; you were happy in her arms; you knew you were loved in her arms, so she held you, as often and as long as you needed."

The whole article is very true and makes me nod my head in agreement, It's a very bitter sweet experience as part of me is relieved he is the last little one to disrupt my sleep. The rest of me is devastated that he is my last baby and the fact he is growing up so quickly terrifies me. I want to be able to hold a baby forever and it's that feeling of cradling a tiny baby that's addictive.

My body hasn't explained to my hormones that I just wouldn't cope well with another baby. My body is fast approaching 40 and another pregnancy would be far from easy, the last one had me swelling up all over the place and having a bit of prenatal depression. The lack of space at home makes it impractical and financially we wouldn't manage so all signs lead to us stopping at two. But still I am broody, even though my boy is not yet one and still causes disrupted sleep. It feels a cruel irony that I didn't find the man and have babies earlier in my life, I wish I was younger and could cope better as I'd definitely go for another.

This week my boy almost crawled (he rolls and sits himself up but no crawl yet) and then last night he started clapping for the first time. I cried like a silly girl because I suddenly realised that this is it, my boy is growing up fast and it may be the last time I watch the miracle of a baby finding their feet for the first time.

I want him to grow up but I really don't want him to grow up - I know I keep going on about this but I can't put into words how distraught I feel about it. My heart bursts and feels crushed all at the same time that my baby is less of a baby every day.

Sorry this is a rather rambling brain dump!

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