My baby’s walking.
It happened so quickly that I was taken by surprise. I stood there with my hands over my mouth and tears in my eyes. I knew that if I allowed her to know I wasn’t holding onto her she would fall to her knees and crawl, so I stood there, hands over my mouth and tears in my eyes, and watched her walk away from me for the first time in her life. Eight steps away from me.
It’s funny, isn’t it? There were so many times in the past year when I wished that she didn’t rely on me so much. I have told her countless times that she was going to have to learn to walk soon because she weighs too much to carry around for any length of time. And yet when she tottered away from me tonight, I wanted to stop her.
I wanted to stop her because somewhere deep down inside me, I am trying to make peace with my decision never to have another baby. Somewhere deep inside me I am trying to make peace with the realization that I will never have another newborn, that I can really give all of my baby stuff away, that I will never have to buy another can of formula. Because my youngest and last child is now a toddler. Somewhere deep inside of me I am trying to collect all the memories and the feelings that came with my baby: the smell of my baby, the touch of my baby, the feeling I got from holding my naked baby next to my naked skin, the wonder of knowing that I brought something so beautiful and so perfectly innocent and trusting into this world….
My baby’s walking.
I watched her walk away from me for the first time in her life tonight.