I Don't Have Babies Anymore...

It absolutely breaks my heart to write/admit that. It can't be possible. My entire life I've adored babies. I've dreamed of having babies.

I loved every second of rocking, feeding, and bathing my babies (whether I knew it in the moment or not... I usually knew it... but even when I didn't realize I was cherishing it, my soul was soaking it in). Now, overnight, I don't have babies anymore.

Part of me feels robbed. I said it when they started to walk, I cried it on their second birthdays, I screamed it on their third birthdays... but deep down I knew my boys were still babies... until yesterday.

Yesterday, my tiny, 3 lb preemie weighed in at 30 lbs. He played t-ball, rode his tricycle, and "read" me a book. He told jokes, teased his sister, and convinced me his hair didn't need to be washed during his bath.

He turned into a little boy.

The reality brings tears to my eyes. I want to dig in my heels, scream that "IT'S NOT FAIR", and I'd be a liar if I said I didn't rock him to sleep in my arms tonight... like a baby... a 30 lb baby.

Except he's not.
He's a little boy.
It's official.
It's not fair.

I want that "on the record". I am not ready for this chapter of life. This chapter where I don't have babies... where I have 3 non-baby children. (We're not even going to think about how big the big one is right now or I'll be a quivering, shaking mess).

So, now that I've officially protested how heartbreaking it is (it is SO heartbreaking!!)...I can relish the little boyness... because it's SO little. That's the joy in the change from having a baby to a little boy. He is so little.

Part of me knows that I will never, ever have a little boy who is as little as the boy(s) I have tonight.

The beauty of each new stage is the new stage part. I really do mourn the passing of time. It's not fair. Really it's not (that's on the record right?). BUT with each new stage is newness... an innocence that will be fleeting. As much as I don't want to admit it, I know it's true.

So tonight I'm not going to cry that I don't have babies.
I'm going to drink up my little boys.
I'm going to love each new word, each new freckle.

I'm going to watch him sleep tonight... in his "big boy" firetruck bed... that he finally sleeps in all night because I bribe him with "Mommy's treasure box"...as he clutches a bottle full of water and a teddy bear, wearing "footy pajamas"...

I'm going to savor it because deep down I know the very reasons that define his NOT babyness right now will someday be precious memories of a very tiny, little, little (maybe even "baby") boy.