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One day…

Some days, when I have the time and energy to sit and stare at the baby and think about all the things in the world, I think about her future.  More, I think about the future of her relationship with me.  And, unsurprisingly if you’ve read this blog for any amount of time, I am already nostalgic for this simple, beautiful time.  Because while I can imagine the great deal of good that it is ahead, I spend more time pondering the thousand ways my heart will break.  I think about how there will be a day when I get really, truly mad at her for some reason or another.  How there will be a day when she says “no” just to spite me, instead of to exercise her freedom as a toddler.  How there will very likely be a day when she does her best to hurt me because she is so mad at me, spitting negativity because she does not know any better way to handle some intense emotion.  I think about our simple, feed-change-play-snuggle relationship morphing and growing in complexity and I am overwhelmed.  I realize there is not going to be some gigantic leap from here to there and that all of our days will be woven together to create the relationship we will have, that it will likely not seem so overwhelming on the other side.  And of course I want my child to grow and learn and develop and become who she will be.  I want to talk to her as a toddler, a child, a teenager, an adult.  I see a thousand possible futures and I am excited to know the person she becomes.  But this simple world where she and her mama and I climb into bed for a story and nursing and end up falling asleep, cuddled together – this is nice, too.  And hopefully the memories of all the days like this will steel me against the challenging times that my heart knows will one day come.

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Comments on: "One day…" (2)

  1. It IS overwhelming to think of it all at once. But she’s so lucky to have a mom who considers the possibilities and chooses to focus on the love. I suspect that approach will serve you all very well, far into the future.

  2. [...] die.  She celebrated her first Christmas, opening presents if we tore a small piece for her.  I felt simultaneously happy and nostalgic, recognizing that these moments are so precious and so distinct from all the other moments we will [...]

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