Parenthood

School starts tomorrow. My first baby starts first grade. I remember when Gracie was born. The day, the hour, the minute. I remember the ride on my hospital bed to my recovery room with her in my arms. I remember being told a few hours later there was some fear for me as they had trouble getting my temperature back to normal. I had no idea. I was lost in the "meeting moments" with my new baby girl. I didn't recognize her like I thought I would. Instead I was meeting this little one for the first time in the outside world. I knew her but I didn't know her yet.  I had friends with kids who were five, six and seven. I remember thinking, "We have so much time until we get to that point in our parenthood." I was wrong. 

Evan is three and half. He starts preschool at the church in a couple of weeks. I remember preparing for his arrival. I remember feeling like I may not have enough to give with two kids. I remember my heart growing to fit them both the instant he was born. I remember all of his hair and those dark eyes. He had a chin dimple. I remember putting him in the car next to Gracie to go home and thinking how perfectly his blue looked next to her pink. I remember rocking and singing sweet songs to him. I remember holding him those first few days and thinking, "He cannot be my last baby." Gracie was three, starting to dress herself and communicate in words instead of tantrums. It was going to be so long until Evan was there. I was wrong.

Ada is almost nine months old. I remember, less than a year ago, preparing our new home for her. I remember getting up early on November 21st. I remember the nurses sticking me over and over to get an IV in. I remember how loud she cried in the operating room. I remember being so surprised by her dark hair and skin. I remember the quiet of the hospital room as we cuddled the most content baby we had ever experienced. I remember bringing her to our new house and it suddenly felt like our home. I remember those first few months when she would sleep anywhere with all the bustle of life around her. I remember taking my time with her. I remember cherishing the quiet moments feeding her. I remember, in my motherhood exhaustion just last week, thinking to myself, "She is just a baby, she needs me at 5:30 in the morning." I am more aware now of how fast it goes. I know that I will blink and she will be sleeping all night most nights. The memories of her first moments will start to fade. I will forget what her babbling voice sounded like. In an instant she will be in first grade and I will think to myself, "We have so much time until we send her out into the big world." And I will be wrong.