“Hey Mom, can you just snuggle me first and let Heidi fall asleep by herself tonight? I feel like you never have time for just me,” you pleaded with me the other night, crossing your arms over your chest.
There it was, the moment I had been terrified of since I first learned I was pregnant with your little sister and that you would become a big brother. It caught me off guard as I felt a twinge of pain and guilt, and then I wanted to laugh as I pulled you in for a snuggle hug. What you don’t see, Riley, is that really, you are the only child who will ever have my whole undivided attention. As I hold you even for these brief moments I breathe in your boyish scent and long to smell lavender lotion, and baby wash on your skin instead of the AXE body-spray you begged me to buy. I remember the days of being able to sit for hours holding you, watching you sleep studying every freckle and those luscious long lashes dreaming about the boy you would grow into. Those were the days I was able share naps and actually “sleep when the baby slept.”
You’ll never know the way that I did and still do find myself in awe of you. The way that I lose track of time marveling at the way I now hold in my arms, the child that I carried within me. You’ll never know the millions of miles I walked as I rocked you to sleep while you cut teeth, or the way I sometimes still bounce when standing still even though I’m not holding you or your sister. You’ll never know the way every milestone you meet is exciting but also completely terrifying, because I don’t know what to expect.
You are my oldest, the first-born, a natural caregiver because you have an innate instinct to protect and defend your little sister. You’ll never know the love-hate relationship I have with time, as I see you grow up (overnight it seems) and as I watch as you bear the “burden” of being the oldest, of setting an example and making good choices and everything that you do for your sister. You’ll never know the joy that I get when I watch you tell stories and make others laugh, the amazement I feel simply watching you move and play, the pride I take in seeing your compassion and love for others.
You’ll never know that I thought my biggest job as a mom was to teach you all about life when really, you have taught me what life is all about. I can’t explain to you how it feels to have my heart walking around outside my body, or the anger I feel when someone makes you sad and hurts your heart. The truth is son, that you’ll never know so much of what I feel for you, and I won’t ever be able to explain the depths of my love for you. But I am here, by your side. I loved you then, I love you still, I always have, and always will. And that is a pinky promise.
Love,
Mom
