a love letter in the early spring

My dear baby,

As I waited for you to come into my life, I always thought that I would cherish the moments to come more than regular fertile people. I thought their regrets would come later in life when they'd realize that time had come and gone. I thought I wouldn't have regrets because I'd live in the moment.

Right now I'm living the last days with a baby. Every day you stand alone for a few seconds at a time and I know that any day will bring your entry into toddlerhood. In the meantime, I walk with you.

It is a sweet thing. I don't think I'm nostalgic about babyhood - at least, not too much - but ... I do wish I could somehow preserve this precious time. I wish I could store it in a jar downstairs - in the cool, dark air - and, later in life, when my hair is increasingly grey and your life extends further and further away from my own, I wish I could descend to the basement, select a dusty and golden jar, bring it into the light, and taste its fruit once more. Not as good as fresh but the memory of summer would remain.

As it turns out, living in the moment - savouring each day - might make things harder down the road. I live with a constant, beautiful ache because I know these days won't last forever.

Love,

Your mother