Breastfeeding has really taught me to stop and enjoy every little moment. Usually even when I’m doing one thing, I’m trying to do something else too. My mind is all over the place. But when I breastfeed, I’m still and quiet (most of the time). I have to actually stop what I’m doing and feed the baby. I’ll admit there are times when I’m still trying to multitask while nursing, but Taylor is getting a bit too heavy to carry around with one arm while trying to complete some task with the other.
Yesterday while I was nursing her, we were laying next to each other. Her body was curled up into mine. I watched her proudly and then her eyes started to flutter closed. Her little hand was rubbing my face. I could hear the rain falling outside, the trees brushing against the windows, and the gentle sound of thunder. It all created a serene moment. A moment that stood still. Even though the outside world was busy and chaotic, I felt still. Calm. I thought about Vanessa. The fact that she’s 15 now. She’s my proof that time definitely flies. I think about how sassy and spunky she used to be as a toddler. How smart she is. The same way Taylor is now. Taylor. The baby. She’s fiesty and full of spark. So much energy. I think about Carter. How much he’s grown. How far he’s come. I think about their past struggles and successes, as well as their future ones. I think about their pain and despair. Their happiness and their excitement. I think about those sad faces they make that melt my heart even when they do wrong. What can I say, I’m a sucker. I think about their smiles. Their bright, beautiful smiles. The way their eyes light up. I love it. And I don’t want to miss any of it. Thinking of them growing so quickly puts a lump in my throat and a strain on my heart.
Seeing my first 2 grow up so quickly, I definitely try my best to savor the moments. The jokes and laughter at breakfast time. The smiles they have when they are happy or excited. The silly shenanigans after a long day at work. Coming home to the kids is extremely exhausting, but they create so much love and happiness (even when they are driving us nuts). We don’t always see it because we’re so tired and busy, but it’s there. Waiting. Waiting for the dust to settle. Waiting for our nerves to get back to normal. Waiting for our veins to subside and our tempers to soften. It’s all about those little things. The memories. They’ll make you sad and happy at the same time. Sad because time passes so quickly and happy because your heart is full.
I run my hand over Taylor’s long silky hair. She’s sleeping now. She’s blissful. I caress her soft, plump cheek. My last baby (unless there’s some freakish divine intervention). I stare at her long lashes and her little nose. This is such a peaceful moment, but I know it won’t last. That’s why I savor it. Every little bit of it. Even when Taylor is finished nursing, I lay with her. I don’t want to move. I don’t want her grow any faster. I want to remember her like this. Angelic. Sweet. Perfection. It won’t be long before she wakes up and starts putting life back in motion.
And just as I try to sneak out of the bed, her eyes pop open.
“Hey” she says and smiles.
And I know all hell is about to break loose. But it’s okay. I’ll take all the moments I can get. Slow down kiddos. You’re moving too fast.