As I fed George cereal for the first time this month, I was hit by something that hadn’t occurred to me until now. This was a last first time.
See, we are sure that the baby train has come to a stop. George will be our last little one. I’ve had so many lasts already that I didn’t realize until I started thinking about it.
The last time I felt a baby kick from the inside.
The last time my baby had a first smile.
The last time I got to hold my child(ren) for the first time.
I wonder if I will even realize the last firsts at the time or if it will dawn on me after the moment has passed. Does a mother realize it the the last time she picks up her child? Does she realize it the the last time her little one asks for a cuddle? Will I know it when it happens?
Sure. There are many more firsts yet to come with both George and McKenna. But I’m saddened that not only will I not get this time back, but I won’t get to do this with another child in the future. In a different life, I would have had a at least a basketball team of children if not a baseball team. I adore children and have always envisioned myself as a mother. There was no doubt in my mind that it was my calling.
But now as my firsts are becoming lasts, my heart aches for time to slow so that I can savor every moment with the two I have.
I am writing for the Two Writing Teachers March Writing Challenge