This past week was a week of basking in newborn bliss for me. Our baby came last Sunday. His name is Zachary Alexander.
These days are so special and precious. This is my last baby. I don’t like to say never, but three is a good number for me. Knowing that it was my last pregnancy, last birth, last time I get to take care of my newborn makes everything so bittersweet.
I want to remember every moment. Inhaling his newborn smell, looking in amazement at his tiny fingers and toes, kissing his soft cheeks over and over again. Even the pain of labour didn’t feel bad at all as I knew it would be gone soon and never again will I experience pushing my child into the world.
I am still wearing my hospital bracelets, reluctant to take them off. I’ll never wear them again. So many things I’ll never get to experience again.
But the truth is, everything is like this.
The moment I experience right now will never come back. My seven year old will never be seven again. My two year old will never be the same again. I will change and grow. My husband and our relationship will evolve and change.
Why don’t we live every moment in awe and gratitude then? I don’t know.
I do plan on enjoying this beautiful here and now as much as I can. Because I know that soon enough the other part of me will wake up. The part of me that doesn’t care about the present moment. It doesn’t appreciate the beauty of experiences that will never come back.
All it wants is to move on. To start a new chapter. It lives in the future. It fantasizes about what will be and how it will be, taking for granted what is already here.
I need that part of me too. It makes sure I keep moving forward.
Two forces. One loves the future. One loves here and now. I need both of them. I like both of them. I welcome both of them.
But in the meantime, I’ll go back to my bittersweet bliss, my baby is about to wake up.