Babies Don't Walk

Penny started to walk this past weekend. Tomorrow is her birthday. 

In a moment of sadness I told Boyfriend that we no longer had a baby in the family and he told me Penny was still a baby. 

"Babies don't walk" I responded. 

With Evelyn, I was very confident I didn't want another baby. With Penny I know she is our last. This knowledge makes every phase that passes far too quickly so much more bittersweet. 

I'm excited to watch her develop into her own person. I adore the personality traits I can identify-her quick temper and desire to make people laugh from her father, her affectionate and stubborn side from me. My heart aches with love as I watch the bond that is forming between sisters. 

Our future is bright, this milestone is not one that should be met with sadness but here I am, knowing that my baby isn't a baby and find myself in a slight state of mourning. 

I yearn for the midnight hours of holding my remarkably light newborn against my chest, just days after giving birth. I want to recreate those first few weeks of nursing sessions-the two of us staring into each other's eyes as strangers but having a bond that can't be described with words, only feelings. 

I want to experience first smiles, sleepy smiles, gassy smiles. I want to live it all over again. And again, and again.  

Please don't mistake these feelings for the desire to have another, new baby-I truly feel my family is complete. I just want to rewind time and take it all in, once more. One last time. 

But that isn't how life works. Having been through this once before I have an idea of what will happen next, what to look forward to.  I know that I need to appreciate the stages she is in now, not to wish away any of our time together. 

For tonight though, on the eve of her first birthday, I will hold her all night long grasping onto the very last minutes of babyhood.