My baby turned four a couple of weeks ago. I have never had a child this old without having a small baby in my arms or one on the way. It feels strange to me to have empty arms . . . well, they are not really empty . . . they are quite full. But they are not holding a baby.
My uterus is nostalgic and confused by the signals received from my irrational brain and my marshmallow momma heart to work properly. A couple of months ago I was actually dreading my little one's birthday, so much so, I pretty much forgot about it (that being her birthday party). I simply just pushed all thoughts of my baby turning four years old out of my briain. I was so secure in the fact that my little one was only 3 years old and would stay that way forever and ever. Guess what? My baby is not a baby anymore. She's FOUR YEARS OLD.
When my four year old turned three I was assured that she was not leaving babyhood behind. I told myself so, you know. I could still baby her and hold her while she fell asleep in my arms (and I'm so lucky that she still lets me do this today). I still get to spoon feed her and I still sit with her in the bathroom. She has long lost the squishy baby legs and arms and oh how I miss her toddler plumpness.
My six year old is gorgeous, sweet and delicious, but she has no baby left in her body. She is all angles and elbows and cart wheels. And the knowledge that this is just moments away from happening to my little one is too hard to take(sshhh, don't tell my brain yet, but my four year old is all angles and elbows too). I want to squeeze her
three four-oldness forever.
How is it that I didn't want to have children in the first place and now all I want is to get pregnant again and again. I will always be thinking yearningly of babies. In my heart, after that first baby(my son) was born, I was hooked on a toothless grin smiling up at me. And the squishy arms and legs dont' hurt either!