So, I am trying to fix the memory in my mind.
Her small, fuzzy head lightly covered with white blonde hair.
Her hot little body, rising and falling with each breath.
Her flushed cheeks.
Her sweet breath on my skin.
Her little fist gripping the neck of my shirt, wanting to keep me close.
She will never be this small again. I will never have another child. This chapter is closing much too quickly. After 12 years and 5 children, my baby days are dwindling.
I won’t have many more of these moments, but I know that the new moments will be just as sweet. Each child was a gift. Each baby was loved with a breathless ferocity that I never wanted to forget, didn’t believe I could forget, and didn’t realize I had until I felt it again with the next child and remembered, “Yes, I have felt this before.” I have loved each life so much that my soul ached.
And I hope I never forget.