It’s funny how, as a mom, most of my days are spent barely seeing past the next 5 minutes. On a particularly good day, maybe I’ll be able to see dinnertime through all the diaper changes. On an exceptional day, maybe I’ll be able to look at what next week might hold.
And then there are the days like today, where I feel like I can see forever.
Today is my last day of maternity leave home with just Ellen. She’s currently sleeping sweetly in my arms, and I have visions of the future dancing through my head.
I’ve had nearly 3 months of one-on-one time with this perfect little chunky baby. I feel like I know her so well… But she’s still so little. Who is she really? Who is she going to be? What is she going to accomplish? Will she do something so extraordinary that the whole world knows her name? Or will her exceptional gifts, whatever they may be, be kept dear just to those who know and love her?
And what about my first baby, Lewis? We know him even better. We kind of even know who he is, what he is all about. But beyond his love for cars, his sweet disposition, his concern for others… what does the world have in store for him? Or perhaps the better question is: what does he have in store for the world?
We’re at the end of a special time, Ellen and I. The beginning of something new. It makes me ache, this ending, down to the deepest depths. But even as the tears roll while I stare at my sweet girl, I’m also exploding with the joy of the visions of her future, and of Lewis’s too.
Sure, she’s just starting daycare on Monday. It feels huge, but really, it is so small. But that step is the first of so many that lay ahead of her which will take her to all the places she will go. On Monday, she belongs a little more to the world, and a little less to me.
Today, though, today I will snuggle her so tight. Because today she hasn’t gotten her first taste of independence. Today she’s still mine, all mine.