Tuesday, March 8, 2016

I caught a last just in time

I used to think my way of getting worked up over "lasts" was just a quirk and would just stay status quo my whole life. Every birthday, holiday, or end of a semester had me listing all of the "I'll never do ___ again." It could sometimes get ridiculous. But overall, it would only cause a few moments (coughhourscough) of melancholy thought and then I would move on.


Enter motherhood. And of course, another woman's blog that made it all worse. Enter a child who looks like me when she sleeps and like her dad when she's awake. A child that is outgrowing the pants I bought her yesterday. A little blonde-headed, blue-eyed child with jokes of her own...jokes that are the lamest and funniest things I've ever heard. The person I have grown accustomed to talking to all day long because she's there. This tiny, real human that God has allowed me to have for 2 years now and the little soul I pray for every night: that she will not be able to remember a time when she didn't know HIM and that I won't have to know a day without her. The cliché saying of loving parents through the ages has now crossed my lips: "This hurts me more than it hurts you." Because it does, little Nomi. I cry because I have to spank you and I hate doing it. I cry because God says to give you grace and I have no idea how! I cry because your hair is longer today than it was last week. I cry because you burned your hand and I wish it had been my own. And I cry now because we had a last tonight and I barely realized it in time.

Baby brother is due tomorrow. So whether my body calls in the loan the day it's supposed to, or he's removed via a cut across my abdomen in two weeks, he will be here soon. Our days as a family of three are almost over. Jim's parents arrive tonight for a week, and then my parents will come in the day they leave, all of them praying that he won't be as late as his older sister was. Jim had a night flight and is leaving straight for work to pick up his parents. It was just me and the daughter for the evening... and I realized it was our last one.

Bedtime suddenly seemed very unimportant to me. I sat and tried to absorb every little monotonous detail of our evening...because this normal, at least weekly occurrence of  "Daddy's on duty and it's just us two" would be over after tonight. Baby boy is about to put some testosterone into our girl nights. It was a macaroni and cheese night. It was a ketchup on broccoli? but of course! night. It was a two cookie night. A pink socks, hair-styling, I won't make you spit out your toothpaste night. We giggled over Miss Beatrix Potter story words like "Hunca Munca," "lickety lickety," and "Tiddly Widdly!" and counted all the bunnies on the inside cover. It was a normal me and my daughter night. But the last just me and my daughter night. I sang her a song, refused to cry, and kissed her goldilocked head. Family of four, here we come.

And just for all everyone rolling their eyes, I know, I KNOW.  Good grief, Amy, what about mommy/daughter dates? What about mommy/daughter weekend trips? What about baby boy nap times and it's just you and her for a bit again? THOSE DON'T COUNT, OKAY?! In my brain this was THE LAST TIME. EVER. THE END. So take your logic and leave me to my salty mother tears.

3 comments:

Alisa said...

My word. Now I'm a weepy sobbing mess. Thanks for this glimpse into your precious night.

Sarah Combs said...

I know the feelings. It is such a hard transition knowing that it will never be just the 2 of you again. I still have pains over it. But I know she doesn't. She doesn't remember when she had all of mommy. When she didn't have to share laps and cuddles and toys and time. *hug* You're doing a wonderful job, Amy. Naomi is beautiful and Asher is one lucky little guy. Be gentle to yourself.

Ted said...

And little did we know that it was indeed the very last night of a one-child family. We read your wonderful blog last night as you were at the hospital. Now praising God for the arrival of Asher James - so thankful for His faithfulness. We love y'all!