Our days are numbered

I lay down on your floor bed with a deep sigh.  It is nap time and I am exhausted, you, of course, are not.  Your strong arms flail about, fingers scratching at my neck, your legs tuck and stretch.  "I not tired." But I know you are.  Finally still, you curl up next to me with your knees to your chest, legs resting on my belly.  You used to fit so perfectly into the crook of my body.  We both have grown. You relax and just when I breath a sigh of relief, a dance part erupts from inside.  "Sister is kicking me, mommy!"  Indeed she is.

And so we lay there intertwined as a flood of mixed emotions wash over my body.  I will only be pregnant for a few more weeks.  The times in which I will get to feel a baby move inside of me are limited.  Part of me never wants it to end.  I will only be pregnant for a few more weeks.  The days in which I am able to lay with you alone and quiet are numbered.  It will never be the same.  Part of me never wants it to end.

Holding you quietly while feeling your baby sister inside has been one of the most magical experiences of my life.  And while I am anxious and excited to meet her, I am in no hurry.  For her arrival marks the end of an era.  It will never again be just me and you.  So I try to make the most of every single day I have left to lay together quietly with you, my son.  I try not to let your wiggly feet or busy fingers bother me.  I wait patiently to feel your breath as it moves from awake to sleep, all the while a baby making her presence known.

Your sister is coming.  These days are fleeting.  I am in no hurry.


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