As many of you may have seen, my other half has had to do night shifts this week resulting in me spending the evenings alone once Shaniah had gone to bed. You may have noticed on my Instagram that I was starting to plan her 3rd birthday. She can’t be three already? She’s my baby. So I sat there and I thought about how much she had grown over the last year and also how independent she had become. It’s a sad time for anybody watching their child no longer want to be in your arms when they take a nap or no longer need you to feed them because boy do they have that under control. Growing up sucks.
I came across this poem I thought I’d share with you all, the author is unknown sadly.
The Last Time:
From the moment you hold your baby in your arms,
You will never be the same. You might long for the person you were before,
Where you had freedom and time, and nothing in particular to worry about.
You will know tiredness like you never knew it before.
Days will run into days that are exactly the same.
Full of feeding and burping, nappy changed and crying,
Whining and fighting, naps or lack of naps.
It will seem like a never-ending cycle.
But don’t forget…
There is a last time for everything!
There will come a time where you will feed your baby for the very last time.
They will fall asleep on you after a long day and it will be the last time you ever hold your sleeping child.
One day you will carry them on your hip then set them down, then never pick them back up that way again. You will scrub their hair in the bath one night and from that day on they will want to bathe alone.
They will hold your hand to cross the road, then never reach for it again.
They will creep into your room at midnight for cuddles, and it will be the last night you ever wake to this.
One afternoon you will sing “the wheels on the bus” and do all the actions with them, then you’ll never sing them that song again.
They will kiss you goodbye at the school gate, then the net day they will ask to walk to the school gate alone.
You will read a final bedtime story and wipe your last dirty face.
They will run to you with arms raised, and that will be the very last time.
The thing is, you won’t even know it’s the last time until there were no more times. And even then, it will take you a while to realize.
So while you are living in these times,
Remember there are only so many of them and when they are gone, you will yearn for just one more day of them.
For one last time.
This poem really pulls at my heart strings but its true. I guess you never really know what you’ve got until it’s gone.