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All I Want Is to Hold Onto Time With My Child
Ten months. That’s how long I spent carrying my little one, enduring a whirlwind of sickness, sleepless nights, and the ever-looming question of whether I would be a good mom. Those worries felt heavier than the extra 30 pounds I was toting around.
Four hours was all I managed to sleep each night during those early days. Before my body adjusted to the reality of sleep deprivation, those nights felt endless. Each of those short hours left me struggling through the day, trying to stay awake while my precious baby slept on my shoulder.
Thirty minutes is how late I always seemed to be back then. No matter how well I planned, there was always a forgotten snack, a diaper change, or a mini-meltdown derailing my best intentions. Those moments of tardiness weighed on me, making me wonder if I’d ever arrive on time again.
Twenty minutes was how long I stood by the classroom window on his first day of preschool. I knew he was in good hands, but seeing his tears because he didn’t understand why I had to leave was a heartache like no other.
Eight hours now fill my days with silence as my boys are in school. This empty house, devoid of laughter, tears, and playful chaos, feels heavy with nostalgia for the days spent on the floor with puzzles and Cheerios scattered everywhere.
Nine years have passed since this sweet child entered my life, and it’s hard to fathom that I have only nine more years before he’ll be off on his own.
In those early days of parenting, it felt like I was trying to push a massive boulder uphill, the weight of time and exhaustion pushing back at every turn. Yet suddenly, I found myself at the top of that hill. Behind me were days filled with sticky fingers, innocent giggles, and the little hands that tugged at my clothes. Those moments, once burdensome, now linger as cherished memories of a time that flew by.
To my dear friends with babies and toddlers: these long minutes and hours that feel suffocating will eventually pass. I understand the weight they bear on your shoulders, but don’t wish them away. Before you know it, you’ll find yourself at the top of that hill, looking back in awe.
Five minutes was all he asked for last night to snuggle in bed. I could have easily declined, citing chores or the late hour. But instead, I said yes—always yes. Time spent with my child feels weightless when I’m nestled under his blanket.
As we lay there in the dark, he whispered, “I don’t want to be 9. I don’t want to grow up.” In that moment, I realized he too is caught in the balance, yearning to grow up while clinging to the wonder of childhood. The weight of time presses on both of us.
So last night, I held him a little tighter, loving him fiercely. There was no time for growing up. The world remained full of magic and innocence, and for a moment, we stood together at the top of the hill, not ready for the descent into the unknown.
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Summary
The journey of parenthood is filled with challenges and fleeting moments of joy. As time passes, the exhausting early days transform into cherished memories. Embracing the present with love and patience is crucial, as these moments will soon become part of the past.