The Lasts

Sometimes we have these moments that we wish we could hold onto forever. The first time that we become a mother, that our babies smile, that we hear them laugh - just so many firsts. Motherhood is full of them. Moments that pass by so quickly that we can barely hold onto them, until they just as quickly become the lasts. Sneaking into our lives.

Not necessarily unwanted, not completely unexpected, but definitely unprepared for. Just leaving us with this bittersweet feeling. Something I didn't feel so much until this weekend when my daughter began to crawl. But as soon as she took that first leap forward it hit me like a ton of bricks...she is my last. My last kicks in my tummy as she grew, my last trip to the hospital in the middle of the night to give birth, my last newborn to nurse - my last baby at all. And my son? Now his lasts are so far away that they seem more like a dream than a reality.

Maybe that's why we don't talk about the lasts as much as the first. Maybe they are too bittersweet that it hurts too much. Maybe it's because we can't actually imagine a world where us as mothers are no longer needed or wanted. Maybe it's because realizing the lasts actually end up breaking our hearts a little at a time.

When will be the last time I nurse my baby? I know that flood of sadness that will haunt me when I close the chapter on breastfeeding. I've gone through it once before. So now with my daughter, will I get to cherish these last few months a little more? Will I be better prepared to feel that pain again of having that wonderful sense of closeness slightly disappear? I can already feel the time ticking away as we near her first birthday.

When will I get the final 'cuddles, please' request from my toddler? He still wants me to lay with him when he is super tired, sad, or sick. And I almost always oblige because, well, he is still my baby and who can resist a little bit of sweet cuddles.

When will I stop hearing that creek in our bed as my toddler climbs into our bed late at night? Some nights he still sneaks into our room when hes had an accident, bad dream, or just can't sleep. But one day he'll wake and realize that he won't need me to calm him down anymore. Because he'll be able to do it on his own

When will my daughter stop wanting to hold my hand as she falls asleep? She is my co-sleeping baby. Always searching for my hand as she lays in our bed to tuck into her palms as she drifts into a slumber. My warmth sinking into hers. But one day she won't search for it anymore. One day she'll be in her own bed soothing herself to sleep. She won't look for my hand in the darkness.

When will I no longer have to be my son's walking translator? As he gets closer to the age of three, his words are becoming more pronounced. Saying complete sentences. Saying words that are starting to sound less like mixed-up, mispronounced, or made-up words. Soon he'll stop saying car as "caaa" and reference animals by the sound they make rather than their actual name.

When will they choose to spend time with me for the last time, choosing their friends instead? Right now they love spending time with me - playing games, laughing at my silly jokes, having reading time, and dancing like fools in the living room. But one day they'll say "Can I go out with my friends instead?". And I'm not quite sure how I'll take it. Can we just pretend like it will never happen? Like they'll love time with me over anything forever?

I guess I'll never really know when the last times are going to be. The last time that they will need me. The last time that they will want me. That's supposed to change, I guess...and I get that. But all of these lasts will never be easy. Because they're hard. And they're mine. They're pieces of their childhood, but they're also pieces of my motherhood. Pieces that I'll carry until the end of my days.

What are some lasts you never wish would happen with your little ones?