And our days go like this. Each one, flying by faster than I recognize until the house gets messier, the sun gets softer, and Laiken gets sleepier.
It's as if in the blink of an eye, another day is wrapping up, Laiken is another day older, and his baby days are slipping away.
I used to not understand why moms got so weepy and boo-hoo-ish about their babies growing up. It's inevitable, I thought. What's the big deal? But, now that I've entered into the mysterious world of motherhood, I get it. Like many of the things I could have never understood about being a mom until it was the life I was in, I get it. The sweet child that God grew in my body, the one who was a part of me for months, the baby who came into this world screaming while I wept along with him... is growing out of these days that we'll never experience again. When I think about the days ahead of us, I can't fight the smile that explodes on my face. Kevin and I spend our time picturing our future with Laiken, and we beam thinking about who he could become. But, my heart breaks thinking about never experiencing Laiken as a tiny, full-dependent newborn again (and how I desperately wished those days away, at the time), and how, if time keeps up its current pace, he'll be a kid before I know it.
Each night, when I put Laiken to bed, I pray over him, and I cry and cry, thanking my sweet God for giving us this precious, sweet boy, and for showing us this love I could never have imagined. Lord, help me to remember, and soak up, these days.
