The salt covered trunk closed with a thud and I dusted off my
hands. It was all in there: the pump, two boxes of clothes, a baby
papasan, the co-sleeper, the playmat and a box of bottles and
supplies for the pump. With that thud of the trunk an era comes to
an end. We are officially boxing up babyhood and sending it off to
our cousins who are due in a few short weeks.
In a few short weeks we will have our last first birthday party.
Everyday is filled with last firsts: last first steps, last first
cup, last first . . . everything. It's bittersweet, and while I'm
generally more okay with it then I thought, the sadness creeps in
every once in awhile. No more big pregnant bellies to rub, no more
tiny little newborns to cuddle up on my chest. We are quickly
barreling towards a house full of large, loud and rowdy kids.
I look at them all lined up. Their four round heads all with
their daddy's eyes staring back at me and I know we are complete.
Even with our missing babies, this is the family we were meant to
have; with my bookend boys and princesses in the middle.
I mostly get choked up about little things, like my breast pump.
I hated that thing. I was tied to it for six weeks when my second
just up and quit nursing after a biting incident. I was much more
successful with my last two. Aside from pumping for a minor surgery
when my third was six weeks old, I haven't needed to pump again. My
pump has sat in my closet collecting dust for the last three years.
Giving it away though just feels so final. He's still a baby! I
have no intent to wean him until he is ready but he's turning one
in three weeks. There's really no need to hang on to the pump.
We'll introduce milk if he needs something more.
I'm mostly glad for the perspective packing it all up gives. As
I hold his crying, fussing, teething body on my chest when I would
really (really!) rather be sleeping, I just remember that this is
the last teething baby I will hold. Soon all his teeth will be in
and he will sleep. Soon he will move into the upstairs kids' rooms
and I will have my room and my bed all to myself. While I am sure
that those first few nights will be blissful, it's going to feel
awfully empty too.
Lucky for me my kids are too busy to give me much time to wallow
in the passing of the baby stages. I'm too busy trying to keep them
out of trouble.
Now excuse me, I have a baby (for not much longer) to pull out
of the dishwasher.
Melissa is mom to 4 kids and 2 angels. She chronicles the sticky bits of motherhood at Peanut Butter in my Hair.
See more of Melissa's stories here.
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