When Ben was a baby I couldn't wait for all of the firsts. First words, first steps, first "mommy". I just wanted him to grow up quickly because I didn't have the patience to wait to see who he would become. With Sam I find myself wanting him to slow down and take his time. I already see Ben stopping the kisses and hugs and snuggles. Wanting to exert his independence. Getting one step closer to moving away from his mother. And as Sam outgrows each little piece of adorable clothing, I almost mourn for its loss. With Ben, I always knew (or hoped) that another baby would wear these sweet little things. Now I know that someone else will, but that they won't be mine.
Don't get me wrong. I have no desire to have another child. But I can understand how some women begin to want to do it one more time. That is why I am still breastfeeding Sam at nine months. For most moms, this is not very long. For me it is a lifetime. And part of me is so happy that he is the last one I will HAVE to nurse. And part of me is sad that he is the last one I GET to. And so I continue. One more day. And another. And another. Maybe by the time he goes to college I will be ready to wean him.
Last Call
in portraits