growing isn't just for children

Yesterday I'm laying on a table in PT with heat on my back when that little song begins to play over the speakers. Upon hearing such a sound anyone who has spent any time in the hospital knows a sweet little life has entered the world.

Up until now that sound was so sweet and full of promise. Granted, it still is...I'm just sad because no longer will I be found on the opposite end. Go ahead, gasp, you know you want to.

Why on earth would a busy mother of 4 desire any more children knowing full well she has her hands full? Just to clarify, I'm content with my 4. It's just sad to think that I will never again touch my belly noticing the sweet movements within that indicate a miracle is approaching.

I know I'm privileged. I've had 3 healthy pregnancies. Each may have provided a couple of hiccups that allowed for discomfort but all my children were healthy beautiful babies and momma was in the hands of skilled professionals. All was well in baby land.

When I gave birth to my first son I knew immediately that I would want to try for one more. While also knowing before I gave birth to Conor that he would be my last. At the time I didn't think much of that decision other than it was the right decision for my family and I. I wasn't prepared for the emptiness that has followed.

Upon getting married I was pregnant before the year was out with twins no less. Since that moment I have been more mother than anything else. Each day began with children and usually ended as such. For the past 7 years I have either been pregnant or caring for children as my main profession.

Conor however seems to be on a mission to remind me that my baby days are numbered and sooner rather than later I will be in need of other day to day activities. I'm trying very hard to hold on to every moment with Conor, but with every moment I'm also reminded that this too shall pass.

And while I know that growth and change are good for my kids I would gladly freeze time to squeeze just a couple extra years at the current stages. The thought of the girls becoming teenagers, the thought of Michael becoming a child rather than my toddler, the thought of Conor continuing his quest for movement seems to be bringing more and more tears to my eyes.

There is a parenting philosophy that shares that at the end of parenting it isn't only the child that is transformed but the parent as well. So onward I travel since I have no other choice. I guess the saying is true,

"It kills you to see them grow up. But I guess it would kill you quicker if they didn't".