***Children mentioned***
I love babies. Love them. Newborn, one month, two months, three months. I love them. I loved having two babies at once. I never felt overwhelmed or lonely or any of the things they say new moms feel (except when my babies were in the NICU). I exclusively breastfed for 8 months and didn’t wean them until I did my first FET cycle at 16 months.
I thought I would be one of those women who always had a baby in her arms or belly.
My “babies” are two years old. Don’t get me wrong…I think
this is the most fun age yet. They are just a joy to be with. But today, I
looked over at my son, and he was sitting on a neighbor’s tricycle eating a big
wedge of watermelon all by himself, and I realized he is not a baby anymore. He
wasn’t suckling, or eating pureed mush…he was eating real food like a real
person, and it just struck me. I had thought back when I did my first FET, that
by now I’d have another baby in my arms (or two). And not that I am not grateful
every second of every day for what I do have (because I am), but I would by
lying if I said it wasn’t bittersweet to realize that my time with my babies as
“babies” is ending changing.
I hate the thought that my pregnancy with my twins might be the only successful pregnancy I will ever get to experience. I hate the thought that I might never nurse again. That I might never cosleep with a newborn again. That each thing my children learn and don’t need me for anymore might be something that I am never needed for again because I might not have any more babies. Will I never again get to teach someone colors? Numbers? Will I never use one of my FOUR infant swings again (two for each level of our house)? I guess I’m not ready to accept that.
When my mother-in-law says to me, "don’t let them grow up too fast," I always say that I want to experience every age. Every age is beautiful and fun. But I know what she means. Babies are so special. Yes, yes, toddlers are, too. G-d knows that I love my toddlers. But if the baby stage is over, it’s just around the corner that they won’t be toddlers anymore. And then (G-d help me) the teenage years loom. And then they will start having sex and rebelling and ignoring me. You see? It's a slippery slope. It is for only such a short period of time that they are small and delicious. That I can kiss their boo boos away. That I am their true love (even though they will always be mine). And when I saw my son eating watermelon all by himself, I realized that time is so precious, and it goes so fast. (Not fast in terms of I still have 3 freakin’ weeks on birth control pills before I get to cycle again, but fast in terms of other, sentimental stuff).
This evening when we came home, I gave my kids a bath. After
their bath, I took them out of the tub and started to turn on their favorite TV
show. Just as I had the DVR set up, my delightful son peed all over my rug. And
I realized that (thank G-d), he’s not quite that grown up yet.
