silent aches of a mother

right here with you

you are growing faster than I can handle.

how is it that in little over a month you will be one year old?

I will be waking up on August 5th to a toddler in bed beside me.

how did we get here so fast?

I thought I would have more time to process this, but i’m realizing I don’t think I ever will.

I feel a deep ache in my body that longs to keep you small and I think I will always carry that with me.

but even if I could keep you small I never would, because I know how much the world needs your beautiful soul.

just at almost 11 months old you have such a sweet and sensitive spirit. innocent and pure. curious and adventurous.

you are teaching me more than you will ever know.

when someone asks, “what is your greatest inspiration?”

I say you.

it’s always been you. from the first moment I felt your tiny kicks inside my belly until now, you have always been my greatest muse.

how sweet it is to watch you be so deeply present, you are teaching me how.

I love how giggly you get when I kiss your toes under the high chair or push you in the swing at the park.

I love the gap that is coming in between your teeth and your deep blue eyes that remind me of the sea.

i’m still in shock that I made you and that everyday I get to wake up next to you.

you are non stop moving these days; it is hard to keep you still.

i’ve never been more exhausted.

I think I am more exhausted now than when you were first born.

but hearing you say, “mama” while you pull up on my legs melts my heart in a hundred ways.

being your mama is the best thing i’ll ever do.

sometimes I think about how one day I won’t always have you along for every adventure and my heart cannot bear the thought.

so when I find myself living in the past or worried about the future, I remind myself I’m right where I need to be, right here with you.

when i’m anxious about my to-do list or frustrated because the house is a mess, I try to remember: to you, none of that matters.

one day i’ll get back to my to-do list, but then i’ll be wishing you were coming along to the grocery store with me.

one day my house will be spotless, but then I’ll be missing your giggle that filled the room.

one day i’ll be caught up on laundry, but then i’ll be missing the tiny clothes I got to fold.

one day you won’t be as little as you are now, and i’ll be wishing I could hear that sweet voice say “mama” just one more time.

I could stare at him sleep all day