Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Revisiting Last Times

On my old blog I wrote a post called Last Times. Tonight I can't help but realize this is the last night I will ever be a Stay at Home Mother. I am excited about what God has in store for us, but just for tonight, I want to stop the clock, stretch it out. Tonight the lullabies will go on and on.

Last Times, Baby Tunnel Exodus, June 2008...
I'm a big fan of "last times" ...in a kind of weird way. I have to know; I'm obsessed with closure. Take the day the exersaucer went to the basement. I literally went down there, brought it back, set it up and put my daughter in it (she was less than enthused, there was a reason it was put away). Then I could let it go knowing it was the last time my children would use it.

That being said, another mile of my daughter's babyness has been crossed... she is sleeping in a twin bed. Around 11:00 on the last night in her crib I crept into her room, picked up my sleepy baby girl in her footy pajamas and we rocked in the moon light one last time. I am excited for all the big girl things coming our way, but I will miss - to my very core - the honor of rocking my child, her breath on my neck, back to sleep in the closest thing I can name to Heavenly Peace.

I memorized her nursery for the last time, knowing tomorrow it would be a big girl room. I closed my eyes to close that out and rested my head on hers to remember. Breathing in her lavender scent I remembered how it felt to rock her in the beginning. In that moment I was grateful for every day, every sleepless hour, I nursed her. I remembered the first morning I went in to pick her up and she was standing up by herself and waving at me. I remembered the sound of her playing alone in her crib, safe and content, as she started waking up without a 5 alarm demand to eat. I cherished the times she tried out her new voice by calling out to us in the morning, "Mama? Maaaamaaaa? ...Dada? DADA!" We rocked for a long time that night. We rocked past the anguish of the day our doctor tested her tiny body for leukemia. We rocked through her healing; rocked past the last first crawl, the last first steps. We rocked through her babyness.

When I returned my last baby to her crib for the last time, yes, my heart ached. Yes, I momentarily wavered in the unchangeable decision to be done having babies. Yes I cried. But did I regret it? Not for an instant. There was a day not too long ago that I fell on my knees and begged God to grow her up! A time that I counted her calories, and prayed her out of "Failure to Thrive." God has blessed us beyond measure! I was sad it was the final last time, but I am so grateful to see her grow.

The Bible says, The Lord your God is with you. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing. (Zephania 3:17) I knew as I whispered Brahms in the dark to my baby girl that I would sing it to her the next day when she was a big girl, and again in the next chapter when she needs it. I will sing it over her all her life, as the Lord sings over us. May I be blessed enough to one day sing it over my children's children.

I'm so grateful there's no such thing as the last time for lullabies.

Goodnight Moon,
Carolynn

5 comments:

Annette said...

Awwwwweee!!! Yes you will miss her being your baby. But when they get older and you see the excitement about their how their day has been and when they come to you to tell you all their secrets you will still be thinking "this will be my last".
Good luck on the new job. I will be thinking about you and praying tomorrow.

Katalyst said...

As sad as the "lasts" are, there are so many "firsts" yet to come. Too often we spend so much time looking back that we trip and fall because we aren't looking forward. Hold your head high darlin' and look at that bright future. It is waiting for you and your babies and there are SO many wonderful things yet to come. :)

Sara@i.Sass said...

I SO needed that verse today!!
I was on the couch this morning snuggling with Nick, and I was thinking. HE is my son. I made this child, I carried him, birthed him, loved him into this BOY on my lap. How on earth did this come to be? How can I possibly watch him grow and not have my heart break with each step he takes away from me? Then it hit me smack in the face. I am a MOTHER. I am not a child still growing and learning the world. I am an ADULT. I give the kisses and hugs and make the meals and nourish the body and bring God into these hearts.
Umm, can somebody help me up, cause I've fallen from the shock of it.
Do you ever feel that? that overwhelming knowledge of WHO you are? Not that you were someone else, but when you didn't have kids the world was YOURS, after, well after your world becomes them.
ever shifting ever shaping around them. You them. Them you.
This hit me today.
The verse is what I needed.

Rachel said...

VERY powerful post. Thank you!

minnesotamom said...

Wow. I can tell that I, too, am going to be one of those mommies that lingers over those moments, those firsts and lasts. The big girl bed is coming all too soon for me...

How was your first day today?