You’ve been here for a month, my sweet baby girl. How has it gone by so fast. I look at your perfect little face and I wonder, am I holding you enough? I had to do the dishes, to feed your brothers, to take a shower, and I wonder what I missed when I put you down. Your time in this world can still be counted in days and the sound of my heartbeat, the feel of my skin… these still ground you like nothing else can. I want to be your entire universe for as long as you need me.
They tell me to savor every moment, and I promise, my love, I’m trying as hard as I can.
This month you will turn three and are truly a ball of delight. You are sandwiched in the middle of this family, but demand every bit as much attention as your siblings get. I find myself thinking of your first birthday and wonder where the last two years have gone. I listen to the jokes you try to formulate, mispronounced words and misplaced punchlines still resulting in hilarity and I wonder, am I laughing with you enough? I’m so often weary from all of the demands on my attention and I tune you out too much, but despite this I remain the one you come to first with those delightful jokes. I want to be your audience for as long as you’ll let me.
They tell me to savor each moment, and I promise, my love, I’m trying as hard as I can.
My firstborn; you are so earnest, so intense, and your heart is so big. I cannot believe I am expected to send you off to kindergarten in such a short time. It seems impossible. The vividness with which I remember the day of your birth hasn’t faded one iota in the last five years. I am in awe of the worlds you create in your imagination; your play is intricate and involved. You blow me away. But I have work to do and laundry to fold. You’re getting old enough to understand and you play alone well, but as I listen to the narration of your play I wonder about the fantasy I am missing out on. I wonder how much longer you will invite me into these worlds with you.
They tell me to savor each moment, and I promise, my love, I’m trying as hard as I can.
This is the eternal push and pull of motherhood: the desire to be invested in every single moment clashes with the reality that it is impossible to constantly engaged. We yearn to cherish every smile, every laugh, every giggle, but despite how much we try, life gets in the way. And maybe that’s okay. Maybe we have to yield to the reality that the balance we strive for is impossible. Maybe we savor moments we can, and we trust that it is enough.