“Blink and you’ll miss it”, they say.
But I didn’t miss it, I was there.
I was there, placing you down to sleep on your back, elbows in line with your shoulder, hands at your ears. I always wondered why tiny babies slept that way.
Then you rolled over and then you were sitting and now you’re jumping from the couch to the coffee table.
I was there, through the tears of breastfeeding, pinching my leg or curling my toes. I wondered if I could do this again. Then one day we were in the kitchen I was stirring dinner and you were feeding in my other arm and I smiled, how did we get here?
I was there, pacing the hallway, squinting my eyes shut, wishing the moment away. Shattered beyond measure at the thought of another day on no sleep. I was there as you cuddled into me, as we surrendered to eachother. I still envelope you into my arms, but you don’t fold into me the same and you tell me when you’re ready for your cot now.
I was there, as they placed you on my chest, never more alive, never more terrified. My world in my arms as I listened to those tiny squawks. Now you’re saying things like “I don’t want to”, “I love you” or “Go ‘way Mummy”
I don’t remember when the nights got easier but they did, or when you stopped saying uggle instead of cuddle, or the moment I kissed those little feet and was greeted with sweat instead of your signature newborn scent.
Oh, how I know I will miss this when I look back through the rear-view mirror.
How I know, that no matter how testing, memory lane will be treelined with nostalgia.
Will I truly remember it as it was? Or will I be trying to pin down a bubble?
When do all the becomings become going’s or gones?
“Blink and you’ll miss it”, they say.
But we don’t miss it.
We miss saying goodbye to it.
~
Poem from my book 'All I See Is You'