I recently read this post and this one, (by an amazing blogger known as Her Bad Mother) and I wept with the familiarity. Though she is much further down this road than I am, and has already said so many more good-byes, she is foreshadowing the storm I can already feel brewing in my heart. And it scares me.
The storm within me that is my knowing that my heart must let go, must let my little boy grow up a little more every day, a bit more every week, and a lot more every month. That he will. That he has already, so much. That I have already said good-bye to more pieces of him than I can fathom in these five short months. And it doesn't look like it is going to get any easier any time soon.
The baby who sucks on his lips and laughs so easily, the boy who pats me on the back when I hold him close, the infant who clutches at my arms and pinches me like a crab to pull me closer. The bouncing, jumping, already exploring, chubby legged little cherub. I want to hold him here forever. I want to....
"just hold on and breathe him in and pretend that we are still two pieces of one body, that I could, if I wanted to, press him back into my chest to beat as my own heart."
She says it so much more eloquently than I can. As I read her words, I find my own heart speaking to me through them.
How do we do this as mothers? How do we hold on, breathe them in, remember, and then let go? I know we must. But how? How do we survive it?