I wrote this post a long time ago and never hit publish on it. I re-read it yesterday as I was going through the drafts in my folder and smiled. There are so many more firsts I could add to this list now, but the one thing that remains is that I'm still trying to savor every single day with my little boy because before I know it, he won't be a little boy anymore. He's more independent as the days go on and I just want to cherish every single moment with him.
The newborn smell. The newborn snuggle. The excitement of the first smile. The fear the first time they roll over. The excitement the first time they roll over. The first laugh. The first time they sleep through the night. The way their face lights up when you walk into a room.
I get it. I understand now.
I never understood when people wanted to have large families. But I get it now. All of those things have been some of the best feelings I've ever experienced in my life. And before I know it, he will be a teenager who is certain I'm out to make his life a living hell. I'll no longer be the center of his universe. He'll no longer come to me when he's sick and wants to be held.
I can feel the infant days slipping away from me much too quickly. Pretty soon he won't need me to help him stand up, or feed him, or bathe him. I'm savoring every single day with him and yet it still doesn't feel like enough. Because when this time is over with him, I know I'm going to feel that void. The void where I was once needed so completely that it was overwhelming and exhausting and marvelous.
So I get it now. I know why people go on to have a second kid, and a third kid, and a fourth kid. Because all of these moments with this new little person that you have created? How could you ever want them to end?
(To the Grandmas and Sisters who are reading- NO, this does not mean I'm ready for another one just yet. Just know that I get it.)