When Kennedy was 2 days old I remember holding her in the hospital bed and wondering how she could possibly be 2 days old. I remember reasoning with myself and saying, “2 days is nothing… she’s not even home yet she’s so new.”
When she smiled. “Still a baby.”
When she rolled over. “Still a baby.”
When she sat up. “Still just my tiny baby.”
Every time Kennedy does something new I’m so proud if her and I beg her to do it again and again. I look at her and everything in me wants her to grow and thrive, but at the same time everything in me wants to scoop her up, cuddle her, and never let her get a second older.
Small changes. Changes that mean she’s growing up, gaining independence, doing exactly what I encourage her to do every day. Changes no one else would ever notice. I see them. I’m constantly reminded that today is the last day she will be this small. Tomorrow, she’ll be a little bigger, a little older, a little wiser.
It’s the strangest feeling because I love exactly who she is today. I love this stage, but I also miss that tiny newborn in the hospital.
I said “no” to Kennedy the other day because she was trying to climb in the fireplace. She stopped, looked at me, smiled a huge smile, and shook her head “no” back at me. I laughed, but then my heart sank a bit and I thought, “that doesn’t fit in my just-a-baby category.”
I’m starting to see a little girl where I used to see a baby. Every day, I watch her grow and develop into this little person and it’s beyond crazy. That’s how it makes me feel at least. It’s just a constant mix of emotions and I guess that’s how it’ll be from now on.
Welcome to motherhood, Melissa.