Dear Baby | I Don’t Want This Year to End
It’s the end of 2017. You were born this year, on a Sunday morning from a hospital room overlooking the Hollywood sign. It was California magic to its fullest, and you danced your way into this world to George Harrison’s ‘Here Comes the Sun.’
This year answered prayers, fulfilled dreams, and multiplied love.
This year caused tears, created strength, and cultivated trust in God’s bigger plan.
Admittedly, a part of me is dreading the end of this year. Because it feels like it’s the end of our newness together. It means the end of what used to be planning your nursery and packing our hospital bag. It means the end of a once-growing belly, and the fear of giving birth for the first time. It means the end of nursing you while the rest of the world was asleep, and the end of cradling you against my chest into the early hours of the morning. It means the end of new motherhood with you.
So I hope you understand why a part of my heart is aching for the end of this year. I am trying to hang onto your sleepy eyes, to your first belly laughs, to your rosy cheeks, and to your soulful smell. Your smell is heaven, sweet boy.
This is the end of our first months together. But I also know this is still the beginning.
Next year I will watch you take your first steps. I’ll hear you babble more of your first words. I’ll see you run in the sand and point to the sky.
I will hear you giggle over peek-a-boo. I’ll watch you give kisses to your daddy. I’ll feel your arms wrapped around me.
Next year I will give you baths in the big tub. I will watch you hold your own spoon. I will bandage your bruises and kiss away your boo-boos.
I will see your first toothy grin. I will hear your feet pattering against our floors.
I’ll watch you eat cake and blow out your first candle.
2018 is going to be the best year ever, too.
And I’d like to think we have a lifetime of firsts ahead of us.
So, goodnight 2017. I’ll see you in the morning, sweet one. It’s a new day, in a new year… and a new first for both of us.