I often reminisce about the simpler moments we shared, like those lazy mornings when we could sleep in, have breakfast sprawled out on the rug, and spontaneously venture out for a walk in the brisk spring air. I’d bundle you up in the baby carrier, wrapping us both in my oversized coat. As we strolled, I’d point out the different trees, and we’d giggle about how the clouds resembled snowmen, unicorns, or even whipped cream. And, of course, we had to search for the moon — your favorite, which we affectionately dubbed the “day moon.” Do you remember that?
Once we returned home, we’d snuggle on the couch, continuing our chatter before diving into a book, solving a puzzle, or drawing together — just the two of us in our cozy little apartment, no deadlines or distractions. It was a beautiful time, with a mother and toddler inseparable, completely lost in each other’s company.
I recognize that in my nostalgia, I tend to overlook your epic toddler tantrums, your strong-willed nature, and your inclination to never play alone, leaving me with little time for myself. I also conveniently forget how restless you were at night, waking up multiple times and leaving me utterly exhausted, stressed, and overwhelmed.
There’s a whole summer that feels like a blur when you were 2 ½, a time when the pressures of early motherhood caught up with me, leading to bouts of anxiety and frequent panic attacks. But I’ve moved past that. What remains are the memories that both uplift and shatter me. I miss those days. I miss our connection.
Today, I have everything I ever wished for: two boys who still love to cuddle and find joy in little things, like the moon or a breathtaking sunset from our window. Each of them brings their own unique charm into our lives, and I cherish the special moments I share with both. They’re growing into thoughtful, intelligent young men who will contribute positively to the world.
Yet, life feels different now, doesn’t it? You’re maturing and don’t need me as much as you once did. Your bond with your brother is unbreakable, and I can see how he has become your world. Life has become busier; we can no longer afford to sleep in or enjoy breakfast on the rug. Now, it’s cereal in front of the TV, rushing off to school. When you come home, I’m often preoccupied with work, chores, and reminding you about homework and your brother’s endless messes.
We still share love and connection, but it’s not the same. Our lives no longer revolve around each other. You will never have my undivided attention the way you did back then. While the fullness of our lives is inspiring, it also feels like a loss.
When I was expecting your brother, I had an unspoken fear of losing our special bond. I worried about the changes that would come with his arrival. However, the moment he was born, all those worries dissolved. I fell in love with him immediately and realized my capacity to love could expand to include both of you. I told myself I hadn’t lost anything; rather, my heart had grown. Still, there are moments when I long for the past, questioning how something so unique could disappear so quickly.
The connection between a first child and a mother — can it ever be duplicated? How does one move past that loss, that deep level of intimacy, that period when your first child was your entire universe? It’s a loss that doesn’t linger in your thoughts daily, but it exists nonetheless, capable of breaking your heart at a moment’s notice.
Sometimes, I think motherhood is a series of losses, and all I can do is adapt. Yet, I’ll often find myself reminiscing about the small details, like your golden curls or how you’d ask to be carried to bed, giggling and gently stroking my lips. Those fleeting memories can strike me with such intensity that I yearn for those days, and it aches. I still miss it. I still miss us. Maybe that’s something that will never change.
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In summary, while I cherish the present with my two boys, there remains a bittersweet longing for the past — a time when it was just you and me, immersed in our own little world.
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