My pregnancy with Macks was completely unexpected. My husband and I always talked about having another baby, but both agreed that we would wait a little bit before we started trying. It was right around this time last summer when we got the news that we would be welcoming another child into our family./>
Knowing that this would most likely be my last baby, I cherished every single second of my pregnancy. Both the good and the bad. I stopped at his kicks just so I could really feel them, laughed as he hiccuped in my belly, and was anxious for every single doctor appointment so that I could see his face on the ultrasound.
I’ve spent nearly every minute with him since he was born four months ago. I didn’t know I would be as emotional as I am with Macks. I still have his newborn clothes hanging in his closet, although he’s outgrown them for months. He’s still sleeping in our bedroom because I can’t bear the thought of moving him into his own room just yet. He hasn’t slept through the night at all since he’s been born, and while some tell me I need to start the sleep training, I hold off because I love our late night and early morning nursing sessions. It’s some of the only moments that we get together with just the two of us.
With my girls, I didn’t think twice about milestones or every little moment. Of course I cherished them at the time, but once they passed, that was it. With Macks, I am holding onto everything until every last drop. It’s as if I am trying to slow the time down to make his time in each stage just a little bit longer.
I really thought that I would be okay with everything, knowing that he was my last baby. But what I’m coming to learn is that I’m really not okay with it.