Summer has swung her door shut this week. She has forced us into something new, pushing us forward as we (read I) dig in and search for the brakes. And this new something is different. And hard. She has exhaled and said her goodbyes, forcing us to say ours in turn.
And I am sad. A part of me is devastated, honestly. It seems silly and at the same time so big. Because my days with you have been a kindness. A gift. Straight from the heart of a Father who knows this particular shape and weight of love. My time with you has done the transformative thing of moving this heart into something closer to His own simply by having been with you.
And if I am being transparent, I did not expect to love these past 4 months. Like them even. In fact, I prepared myself for that very thing. Much time was spent coaching myself that it was okay if I did not care for the season of newborn. I began giving myself grace for this season long before you arrived. Because I wasn't sure how I would react to little sleep and loud cries and constantly being needed. How my introverted tendencies would compute with the most minimal of "me" moments. I told myself that I would like the older days when you could feed yourself and crack jokes and play with me, but not the little ones. Not the baby moments. I prepared. I worked to make space for perseverance and grace. I resolved to not be named failure simply because I didn't like it when others do.
And I still fully believe that there is grace for mommies who don't particularly care for this stage. I fully believe that all of the wide range of mommy feelings are okay and valid and normal. There is space for it all. That it, whatever it may be, is known deeply by a good and loving and gracious God.
But buddy, can I just tell you...I have loved our days.
I wish you could understand the fervor behind those words. The absolute earnestness they represent. I have just loved my time with you.
You are all the good things.
You are eyes that take in this great, big world with joy and curiosity. As if there will always be more to learn and find.
You are a voice that rises to be heard in all the good and all the frustrating. There is this sweet mixture of boldness and warmth. I can already see rising up in you, little boy. I praise God for it. You got that beautiful gift from your daddy.
You are smiles. Oh, you are smiles. The most genuine and joy-filled I've seen. The kind that believe the best in the person receiving them. What a gift you extend with those smiles.
And you are hands that hold tight. From the very first day, you have been that way. It may be my favorite piece of you. Gosh, I hope you never stop wanting to hold our hands tight, drawing close for comfort and rest.
And to leave you this past week... goodness. I can't breathe thinking about it. It has been the tiniest preview of all of the letting go that awaits me as your momma.
I know it is coming for me. I know in my gut that this is simply the beginning of the aches that overtake mommas and daddies. We don't stand a chance. The blindsiding gut punches of feelings are around every corner. Every milestone and turning of a year. Celebration and sadness. An overwhelming mixture.
Because being your parent is the biggest thing. It is the most I have felt. It is not all of me, but it is so much of me. There are really no words to put to what this parenting thing really is. What moving forward in these shoes really feels like. But it is big, Charlieboy. It is big. Too big at times. Because who am I to do such a thing as raise a child? Gosh, and I am just starting. This is but the beginning. There is much more to be lived.
But I will forever treasure these first handful of months I have spent with you, my baby boy. I will store these up and pull them out when I need a moment of good. A moment of best. A moment of new. And beginning.
It seems too simple, but it feels too big. You have made me a mommy, little man. You have changed my days and breaths and perspective and heart for the rest of this life. There is just no turning back. I can't fathom even trying.
And I cannot help but be swallowed up this week. By the fullness of love that our mighty Father has for His people now that I know you. Now that I know this fierce love for my boy. My baby. My first.
And in all humility I am praising Him for your sweet life and this change in mine. Because you have changed me. He has changed me. And I will forever be thankful for the sweetest little 4 months in the beginning. Thank you for easing us in. You are our absolute favorite little dude. Treasured and dearly loved. Seen and known. I cannot wait to be a part. To travel alongside. Holding tight and letting go and loving big for as long as I've got with you.
Love you forever,
Momma
Pictures. If there is anything I have learned about being a momma, there are never enough pictures of your baby. So get ready, little mister, the photos have just begun. A few of my favorites from our beginning months together.
Teeny Charlie.
Boy, have you been growing.
Your nursery.
