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Darling, You Can Have All the Time You Need
My side feels like a pretzel, and my back is doing its best impression of a traffic jam, cutting off all sorts of essential blood flow. Lying on my stomach? Forget it—that’s like trying to balance on a bowling ball. At eight months pregnant, I find myself awake at all hours, dreaming of your hair color and whether your smile will mirror mine. The acid in my chest burns as your gentle kicks startle and comfort me at the same time.
It’s alright, little one, you can have all the time you need.
In my arms, at my breast, nursing every two hours like clockwork. You wail, and I fumble with a nipple shield while we both navigate this chaotic dance of motherhood. 3 a.m. brings tears and frustration for both of us as we learn the ropes together. Yet, once your tummy is full and your sleepy smiles emerge, I can’t help but watch you, breathe in your scent, and wipe away my tears.
You’re all mine. Darling, you can have all the time you need.
Rocking, crawling, and pulling every book off the shelves like a tiny tornado. There you are, fussing and fidgeting, green purees sliding down your chin, and I try to hold back my laughter as they splatter everywhere—on the high chair, my face, even my hair. I’m on a never-ending mission, running in circles, keeping your tiny hands away from the dangerous stuff (why is dog food so intriguing to you?). Every waking moment is devoted to you, and even while you sleep, I sneak in for just one more look. After a long day, it only takes an hour after bedtime for me to start missing you.
Sweet baby, you can have all the time you need.
Wobbling, running, and throwing tantrums on the floor. I’m learning to discipline for the first time, and tears flow as we navigate uncharted territory: your strong will versus mine. There are park swings, merry-go-rounds, cartoons, and endless puzzles. I lose my voice reading your favorite stories on repeat, but those “I love you, Mommy” moments make it all worthwhile. This time is overflowing with your boundless energy.
It’s okay, little one, you can have all the time you need.
Regressions, growing pains, and those confusing transitions—potty training, vegetable battles, sleep retraining. I lie beside you for hours, waiting for your little heart to settle. I lose myself in the sight of your perfect lips, parted in sleep, eyes shut, and heavy sighs escaping. Once my tiny little boy, now growing up so fast.
Stay small. Darling, you can have all the time you need.
Backpacks, preschool, and pretend play. I sit on the floor for hours, voicing the rhino while you take on the role of the lion. Every night, I lay out your clothes and cut off the crusts from your PB&J just the way you like it. Holding your hand while walking down the sidewalk, I’m discovering every little facet of your personality.
Sweet boy, always my baby, you can have all the time you need.
Because soon enough, there will be tee-ball games and homework, first crushes and late-night talks. I’ll remind you to slap on deodorant, call me, and wake up for school on time. You’ll grow “too cool” for kisses, and I’ll be teaching you how to drive and helping you apply for colleges. Sending you off will be bittersweet, but even then, dear boy, please always take my time.
You can forever have all the time you need.
For more insights on pregnancy and home insemination, check out this excellent resource from Hopkins Medicine. And if you’re exploring options for starting a family, consider visiting Make a Mom to learn more about their kits. For additional tips, you can also check out this blog post.
Summary
This heartfelt piece captures the journey of motherhood from pregnancy through early childhood, emphasizing the precious moments that parents share with their children. It highlights the challenges, joys, and bittersweet nature of watching a child grow up, ultimately conveying a message of cherishing every moment together.