Welcome to the next in a series of motherhood posts guest written by Amy, mother of two young boys, over at Raising Men, Finding Me.
I fell in love with her writing style instantly. It's simple but
adorned with the kind of beauty and insight that only authenticity can
offer. I feel so honored that Amy has agreed to share her intimate
world of motherhood in her lovely and touching style once a month here
on Wish List. And I have a feeling she'll connect with so many
of you mothers out there, perhaps in a way I can't. Here are her
words, her thoughts, all rooted in love.
Two.
This past week, my youngest child turned two. For
me, the second birthday is a big deal because the baby years are gone. Since
there will be no more baby years in our home, I say farewell to the
around-the-clock feedings, trying to soothe the inconsolable crying, tending to
the diaper rash while changing the blow-out diaper by the glowing night light, wiping
baby spit-up off my shirt, feeling
scared-to-death when he spiked a fever for the first time, freezing wash cloths
and plastic rings to ease the pain of teething, gently swaying him on my hip
while waiting in the line at the coffee shop, the grocery store, and the dry
cleaners, doing the laundry (oh, the never-ending laundry), living on take-out
pizza, cheerios and reheated coffee, swearing at the supposed “leak-proof”
sippy cup that just leaked milk all over the car seat – again, holding an
overstuffed diaper bag on one shoulder while collapsing the “single-handed” stroller
in a hundred degree heat, fretting over every decision while learning to live
with guilt and insecurity of it all. Those hard,
how-am-I-going-to-get-through-this baby years.
And then, I remember feeling him grow inside of me –
the first time I felt the butterfly flutter of his movement, and when I would rub
his bottom through my large belly when he kicked me after I had drank a fizzy
drink. I remember when the doctor couldn’t get him out - the quiet in the
operating room and the silent prayer I offered up for his safe delivery. I
remember taking long walks in the middle of winter with him and his older brother
all bundled up under cozy blankets in the double stroller (it was the only way
to get him to nap while occupying his brother with hot cocoa as I sipped on a much-needed
mocha coffee). The endless nursing sessions. The feeling of having him fall
asleep in my arms and lay on me all night. The way that his hair smelled after
a bath. The first time he said, “Mama.” Those delicious,
soak-them-up-while-they-last baby years.
As I frosted his birthday cake on the morning of his
party, I thought of those baby years gone by – the hard and the delicious. I
will miss it all. I am excited, however, for all that is to come in the years
ahead.
Happy second birthday, my sweet boy, and thank you
for making our little family complete.
Read Amy's other guest posts HERE.
