As I sat in that restaurant pondering pre-marriage Dave and Kelli, I was struck by the fact that here we were, 11 years later with our three children. We are a family of five. It all happened with lightening speed! Weren’t we just sitting in this restaurant planning to elope? Didn’t we just move to Boston? Dave just took the bar exam. It seems like only days ago that I sat submerged in our bathroom’s deep old bathtub, trying to escape from the heat of summer and the pain caused by my 9th month of pregnancy. We only just had Joe… then Gwen. I was just rolling them around Brighton in their stroller. We only recently fled the city to that big old house in New Hampshire…Kate was born just a few months ago, right? How quickly time seems to have moved when I view it from this direction.
Time has tricked me again. My last baby is officially gone. Time has stolen her baby smell and her exquisite milk-drunk, floppy newborn slumber. How quickly I have forgotten the colic that caused hours of painful crying each evening. Honestly, from this angle I can’t recall being really exhausted from sleep interrupted by nursing. From this direction, my view is made up of those sweet, fleeting hours when I held my babies on my chest and felt their warm, quick breath on my neck. I clung to those sleepy times with Kate, knowing that the future would lend a euphoric dream like quality to my memories. Oh, how I loved those sleepy, fantastic smelling newborns and their wobbling, fuzzy little heads under my lips.
Our little people are growing up. Our little baby is becoming a girl…complete with some new pigtails and a budding sense of humor. Goodbye sweet, tiny baby. I’ll never forget you. Welcome to the world, and by the way, you have two really incredible siblings to spend your life with. In the meantime, I’m going to try and store away a perfect memory of each and every one of you, just as you are right now.