The other day I had my first honest-to-goodness "I am going to miss this moment" with Aidan.
He was drunkenly lounging on the boppy in a milk coma and looked up at me with his gorgeous, brown eyes. Then he gave me an ear splitting smile and giggled. He was happy. Satisfied. And in love with his Momma.
I wanted to cry.
I'll miss this. I love breastfeeding him. I love the connection between us before, during and afterward. I love that he relies on me for his nourishment. And I love how content he is after he's just helped himself to a big meal and lets out a giant fart!
A thought crossed my mind at that moment. Do I really want to have more kids?
I've always wanted to have at least 2 kids. Growing up in a family of 7, I always felt bad for those lonely, only children. They never had any instant playmates. I, on the other hand, had 4 sisters close to my age on standby 24 hours a day! Some days I may have hated having them there ALL of the time, but for the most part I really loved it. I want my children to have same relationship with a sibling that I have with mine.
But, then, I'd never have this time with Aidan again. Or for my next child. These wonderful days of staying at home with Aidan, just the two of us, would be long gone. And I'd never have the chance to have that time with a second child. It'd always be the 3 of us.
Those special breastfeeding moments would be interrupted by the need of another sibling, not the quiet, blissful moments that Aidan and I share now.
So, for now I will just enjoy every moment that we have together. I all ready cherish the little things, but perhaps now they will become extra special. :)
Is This Thing On?
3 days ago