My darling, I love you. Your father loves you. The pets adore you. We all cherish you deeply. Now, it’s time for you to sleep.
I paused, pulling the blanket up to her chin and tucking it gently around her little legs.
Goodnight, my sweet girl.
This was to be my daughter’s final night in her crib, a poignant “last” that I finally took a moment to appreciate. Dinner was left simmering in the oven, an unwritten article awaited my attention on the computer, and an untouched toddler bed sat waiting upstairs, but I chose to stop.
I lingered in the doorway, observing her as she lay there, thumb in mouth, her feet pressing against the wooden bars. I wanted to absorb that sight and that moment, which marked her transition from baby to “big girl.” I longed to inhale the scent of her soft hair one last time (the fine hair that has now transformed into the most delightful, albeit chaotic, curls). I wished I could rewind the last two years that seemed to fly by.
I don’t intend to paint an overly rosy picture: not every moment is easy. There are many experiences I don’t miss – teething and the overwhelming demands of motherhood come to mind – and parenting can often feel thankless, filled with tears and frustration.
Yet, on that night in her room, I experienced a rare moment of maternal bliss. I wanted to scoop her up and hold her close, to rock her gently and sing her to sleep like I used to, until we both dozed off. I wished to stand there a little while longer, but my independent child interrupted my thoughts with a cheerful “goo’bye!” – a nightly ritual, punctuated with an exaggerated emphasis on the “iiiiii.”
So, I said goodnight and closed the door.
For the past two years, I’ve been focused on “firsts” – her initial smile, her first laugh, her first words – but I’m only now recognizing the importance of the “lasts.” These moments bring both joy and sadness. I feel proud of her growth, but it’s hard to pinpoint when things shifted. When was the last time I swaddled her? When did she stop falling asleep in my arms? How long has it been since her baby scent faded away?
I strive to remain present, not wanting to dwell too much on tomorrow, for fear of losing today. What if I’ve missed another milestone, another “last” that slipped by without proper acknowledgment? (She asked me not to color with her yesterday; is that a sign we’ve crossed a threshold?)
This thought process keeps me anchored in the present. I often become distracted by emails and social media, risking the chance of missing these precious moments. So, while I may overlook the last cuddle or not realize when she takes her final sip from a sippy cup, I’m learning to cherish every moment, even those that end in chaos, spills, and scribbles on the walls.
Perhaps tonight, I’ll allow her to stay up a bit longer or hold her when she cries instead of letting her settle on her own. Because each day could be a “last day,” and I want to savor the best for last.
For more guidance on navigating the journey to parenthood, check out this excellent resource on fertility treatments at March of Dimes. If you’re interested in couples’ fertility journeys, consider reading this blog post for helpful insights. You may also find valuable information on male fertility at Fertility Booster for Men.
In summary, it’s crucial to embrace the fleeting moments of childhood, recognizing both the “firsts” and the “lasts” that shape our journey as parents.
Keyphrase: Cherishing Last Moments in Parenting
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