THE BABY CHAPTER
It's not closed. Like, anything can happen. Like miracles. Very precise miracles. But let's just say we might be done. Closing the baby chapter. And this has me a wreck.
Every month I wake up going woohoo I'm a woman! Yay. The 40's and the female body rock. I'm so lucky! Well no. I'd be lying if I didn't say that sometimes I want a pregnancy test that says yep, you're open for business and it's twins again!! Just kidding. Well, kinda not. But my husband would up and move to the woods. But truthfully, closing the baby chapter is weird. And sad. And doesn't feel totally natural.
Perhaps you're the kind of mom who's response to this is, "Come on! It's gonna be awesome, you're going to get your life back!" And my response to such fodder is this. I'm not ready for that life back. That life is gone, in the past. It was wonderful and vibrant and lovely but this, this is the greatest chapter I know. And yes I realize it's only a chapter, the next will be glorious and beautiful in all it's color, but it will be a different chapter. And here's why.
The kisses I get everyday from my Bo, they won't be like this again. In a few short years he won't let me kiss his cheek for 20 seconds straight and he'll probably want me to remove my mouth from being glued to his face. The giggles won't ever sound like Bo's laugh. Or Luke's. The baby smiles won't ever make you feel funny inside like a baby's does. It's quite possibly the most soothing medicine of all time. It's magic. Like 24 karat magic. And slowly but surely the diapers will be exchanged for dirty bathrooms and un-flushed toilets. The nursery will turn into a kids room that will eventually be locked with a sign that says "no entry". And the snuggles after pre-school will turn into elementary conversation that goes something like this, "Mom, can I have a snack?" And 20 minutes after said snack is digested they're asking for another snack and refusing to come inside to do their homework. And that might progress into something like this.
After baseball practice they come home and enter their bedroom. And they shower for what seems like 48 minutes. Meanwhile your daughter who's about to enter college is working weekends saving up money for her Europe travels and I'm just sitting over here wondering where my babies went. Like, what happened to the excitement of cupcakes and unicorns and Thomas the train? All of a sudden, the terrible two's are sorely missed and diapers and crying it out doesn't seem lost on me, but rather a sudden major wish of wanting those baby days back is in full effect. You might call me emotional. Or stuck in the motherhood effect. But this is how I see it. And this is how I feel it.
The baby chapter is glorious. It's miraculous and gorgeous, stimulating and challenging. Empowering and freeing and nothing short of perhaps the best days of my life. And God willing, the next chapter is just as powerful. Maybe even more so. But knowing this chapter might be closed and the next one is clearly on the horizon, suddenly I stop and feel my heartbeat second for second and minute for minute, and I realize the next act might be just as cool. And I breathe. In fact, the mere thought that I even get a shot at the next phase, with healthy children in tact is quite possibly the only answered prayer I've ever known.
I don't know about you. I don't know what stage you're in. But this baby chapter, this beautiful, inconsistent, nutty, intoxicating and very inconvenient era, is something I know deep down, is greater than anything I've known. And the next chapter I see things clearly in my head....a sea of images I want to create, transcending stories I want to tell, change I want to be a part of, and my babies growing into something even I couldn't have imagined. So yes, maybe it's the closing of a chapter, and maybe it's a hard pill to swallow because yes, you've done it so well, but perhaps the next chapter is more vibrant than the last, and maybe just maybe, you might be surprised at how incredibly perfect it's going to be.
Here's praying. Here's hoping. Here's me thank-ing. Thanking you God. Just, thank you. For this baby chapter. For my babies. For it all. That's all.