You thought the wait would be over by now.
After all, you spent over nine months literally building and nourishing a living being in your body, and you did so with your eyes on the prize—waiting for your little one’s arrival.
And now you find yourself in the longest waiting game yet, and you realize there’s no end in sight . . .
Because this waiting game never ends.
It started before you ever even met them—waiting on the + or – in the test window.
Waiting for the halfway point, the anatomy scan, the gender reveal, the point of viability, the third trimester, reaching term, and the due date.
Then all of a sudden, in what seems like both an eternity and the blink of an eye, you are waiting on the final moments until their arrival.
And you realize the wait is far from over.
You find yourself waiting for their first screams to let you know they’re here, they’re OK, and it’s all good.
Waiting for their first cuddle, their first feeding, their first time meeting the grandparents (and family and dog).
Waiting for their first bath, their first night home, their first doctor’s visit, their first outing.
Waiting for their first smile, their first roll, their first laugh.
And just when you think you’ve tackled the initial big firsts, you realize the waiting game keeps changing—morphing away from waiting for the monumental newborn firsts to waiting for the anything-but-mundane day-to-day moments that are the hallmark of life with a little one.
You find yourself waiting for feeding time so you can wake them up from their nap and hold them in your arms.
Waiting for the time after their feeding when you keep them upright to let gravity do its job because it means you get to snuggle them even closer, face to face and heart to heart.
Waiting for playtime so you can watch them learn to engage with the world around them (the lights, the sounds, the textures).
Waiting for nap time so you can have a moment for your own basic needs (hello scarfing down mini-meals, chugging cold coffee, and taking a record-breaking, 4-minute shower).
And once you’re clean, not full but also not hungry, and decently caffeinated (I mean who needs sleep when you’ve got caffeine?!), there you find yourself again . . . waiting.
You find yourself staring at them in awe and adoration, waiting for them to wake up, to feed, to burp, to play, and to nap, over and over again.
Waiting, while you realize time is going too fast.
Waiting for time to slow down, but it doesn’t.
So you slow your own pace—setting everything else aside to soak up the adorable sights, the cooing sounds, the sometimes stinky but usually yummy baby scents, and the cuddly snuggles of these moments you’ve waited so long for.
Originally published on the author’s blog