I haven't missed a thing

I look at you my little one and I grieve over what is about to come. Any day now your little brother will enter this world. While I am so happy to meet him, it scares me to think about how this will change you; change us. It has been me and you, kid, for 19 months. That is all I know and all you know.  I stroke your hair as you are curled in my lap, body twisted around my growing belly. I want to freeze time and soak in this moment. I hope it will leave a lasting imprint on our hearts. I hope we will remember.

 

The day has come little one and you are officially a big brother. I am full of anticipation while I wait for daddy to bring you in. What will it be like? Will you miss me like I have missed you? Has your love for me shifted because of this change? The door opens, a smile spreads across your face as you run towards me. I scoop you up and your arms encircle my neck. The moment is beautiful, yet different. The weight of your body against mine feels heavy. Every part of you is so big; your feet, your hands, your face. I look at you and wonder where my little boy has gone.  A wave of grief washes over me. How could things have changed so quickly? How could I have lost you little one?

 

We are at home now little one as our new family of four. Your brother is sleeping, and I am sitting here listening to you and daddy play in your room.  You come running in to show me what you have created. You climb into my lap and look up at me, resting your head against my chest. It is in this moment that I am filled such warmth and joy. Because there you are my little one. You were here all along. Our bodies and hearts remembered, and here in my arms is my first baby boy. And I realize I haven’t missed a thing.

 

Sarah Adelmann