To my last baby,
It’s so weird saying that because my momma heart is still clinging to the thought of just one more, but deep down I know you are my last sweet baby.
I sit here and watch you drifting off into a peaceful slumber while I try my best to soak it all in . . .
Your baby curls and rounded cheeks.
Your chubby little fingers curling around my own.
And that sweet baby scent I wish I could bottle up for when it’s long gone one day.
They always tell you it all goes so fast.
They warn you and warn you to take it all in before it’s all gone.
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It’s hard sometimes though.
It’s easy to get caught up in the exhaustion of it all.
The sticky fingers and dirty faces and endless laundry.
The rocking and chasing.
Midnight bottle feeds and sleepless nights that feel like they’ll never end
But then somehow . . . they do
And before you know it you have rocked your last baby for the last time without even knowing it.
Forgive me for holding on a little tighter this time around but that comes with being the last.
You are my last baby I get to rock.
My last face to wipe and diaper to change.
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You are my last first Christmas morning magic.
My last shot at hearing a baby babble their first words and take those wobbly first steps.
So for now, I will try to slow down.
I know I can’t keep you this little forever as much as I would like to.
So instead, I will try to slow myself down so I don’t miss all these little moments of wonder.
Tomorrow comes fast, so for right now, I will hold you a little tighter.
Shower you with more kisses.
And rock you like it’s the last time . . .
Because it just might be . . . the last.
Originally published on the author’s Facebook page