This beautiful little love of my life turned a year old yesterday!
So of course, I wrote about it for the Rainbows & Unicorns blog. Because…duh. I’ll write a less artsy-fartsy “this is the kind of shit my baby does” type of post hopefully this week or weekend (once I’m over the plague my husband gave me).
For me, it wasn’t about survival. It was about time moving too quickly for me to soak in the special moments I’d dreamed about for years. It was grasping at your milestones as they slipped quickly through my fingers, or missing them completely as they passed by, unseen, because I wasn’t home when they happened. It was first fighting through a hormonal haze, then postpartum anxiety, long enough to enjoy just being with you, playing with you, watching you grow and letting you learn. It was trying to stop time—like trying to stand still in a fast, strong current—because I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to experience any of these moments again with another child.
Read the rest of the post here. Bring your tissues! (HA HA, just kidding, that’s assuming it might actually make you cry. Just because I cried writing doesn’t mean you’ll cry. I mean, no, I didn’t cry. You’re crying. Go away.)