As I was putting Jonas to bed last night, I realized, snuggling with him in the dark, that perhaps much of what I’m feeling is simply the loss of his own babyhood. Of course, he hasn’t been a baby for some time, but the addition of Bridget to our family makes it only too clear just what a big kid he is becoming. As his hand tiredly stroked my hair and felt my cheek, I was aware of how large it was and speculated, as I breathed in his slightly sweaty head, that there was probably dirt under his fingernails.- not like Bridget’s delicate little fingers that wrap sweetly around my index finger.
Of course I want him to grow and mature. And he is at such a fun age right now, constantly amazing me with everything he is learning and doing. I guess it’s just that it has all gone so fast. He’s not my baby anymore and someday he will be grown.
As I left him to slumber and crawled into my own bed with Bridget curled beside me, I couldn’t help but consider how familiar and yet how foreign this little girl is to me.There is a certain way in which a mother just feels she knows her child from the first moment, and yet I don’t yet know her with the same intimacy that I do that sweaty little boy I had just left. I know that child inside and out. As I lay listening to Bridget’s irregular breathing and watching her arms move in that newborn way, I marveled at how odd it is that she could seem so known to me while also seeming so strange. And I realized too, as I breathed deeply her newborn scent, that the time would come all too soon when she too would cease to be my baby.