Holding my baby

Hello to all! I know that I’ve been off the radar for a few weeks, I’ve been so anxious to get back to this little space of mine. I am excited to say that I sent off my childbirth educator exam today! One less stressor off of my plate. Now, I can get back to writing…but not before saying hello and thank you to those of you who take time to read my words and to those new followers I’ve gained while away. My readers are the reason I continue sharing my words on my blog instead of storing them away never to be read by anyone else, so thank you from the bottom of my heart.


While pregnant, a coworker casually mentioned, “I wish I knew when the last time I’d hold my children would be.” I instantly wrote that down on a piece of paper and held onto it as if it were something that would save my life one day. It pulled some heart strings and resonated with the mother deep within me.

I remember Little Nugget as a newborn and being told not to hold him so much. The reasoning behind it? Little Nugget would become accustomed to my arms and would only want to be carried. There is a Spanish word for this – embrasilado. (It’s a big deal in the Mexican culture when your baby only wants to be carried, and not necessarily in a good way.) I remember not caring about whether or not he’d get used to it, so I held him as much as I could. Looking back now, I’m happy I didn’t listen to the “advice” I was given because now he’s three and difficult to corner for a hug. Ok, not really. He’s actually a really sweet kid that usually stops to give me a kiss or a hug if I ask for one. You get what I mean though, right?

I look back at Little Nugget’s newborn pictures and don’t comprehend why and how time just dissipates. The more time that passes us by the more memories fade into the distance, and that makes me a tad bit scared. We only get one life with these people we call family and friends, with our children, and gosh darn it I will hold my babies as much as I can and want. Now that I have two, there is no one that can tell me how much I should or shouldn’t carry my baby. Now that I know what time does to your heart, I hold Zion as if I won’t see her tomorrow because, well, tomorrow she will look different and in a week, a month, a year she will look very different. And, what really is a year in the grand scheme of things?

I hold her close, stare at her, absorb as much of her little details as possible. I smell her scent trying to store it in a piece of my memory that will hopefully act as a bottle for the future, a bottle that I can open and smell when she no longer smells as a new baby. I simply allow myself to calmly lay with her as much as possible. Dishes can gather, dirty clothes can stay on the floor, and dust can accumulate on the window sills, but my babies will grow with or without me there to enjoy it, so why not be there to see it all happen? I’d rather the memories fade from my mind than to never know what they were like or what they felt like.

Cheers to following our heart!

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