One More Week

Dear Sebastian,

You will be one in a week. I would be lying if I said I was ready. In fact, I can't think of anything that I am less ready for at this point in my life. This year went by so fast. How can it have gone by so fast? It feels like just yesterday that you were this little baby, curled up in my arms as we comforted one another after the traumatic experience of birth...and now you are this little person who is growing up far too fast. Your brother did too, but for some reason it seems like it is going faster this time. 

Part of it, I am sure, is my feelings of guilt. I was looking through pictures of your brother tonight at your age, and there seem to be so many more of him. I know that a big reason I feel that way is the damaged hard drive with the first six months of your life on it that is currently tucked away safely, awaiting next years tax returns so that we have the money to fix it and try to recover some of those precious pictures. I am so sorry for that, son. I want you to know that I love you just as dearly, just as passionately, as I love your brother. Every smile, every moment, is just as precious as it was with him. I just feel like I am lacking in my photographic documentation this time around.

Another reason is that it really is going by faster. SO much has happened this year. Your Daddy came home to meet you, Mommy got sick with my gallbladder and then my pancreas, Daddy had to leave again...And I don't just have you to center all my time around, but your brother too. Sometimes I feel guilty for that as well. That you don't get the one on one time with me that he did in his first year. It isn't anything I can change, but I still feel guilty. Please know that I do everything I can to have special time with both of you so that you can have my undivided attention.

For you, most of that time comes in the morning. You wake up well before your big brother most days, and that time we get to curl together and snuggle in bed means so much to me. I hope that we will still be able to do that for a long time, even though I am going to have to stop nursing you very soon. Too soon. Something else I am sorry for. I wish my body was normal. I wish I was healthy and boring, but I'm not, and there is medication Mommy needs to be back on soon. Medication that isn't safe for you. So, I am going to have to wean you earlier than I would like, which will cut into a lot of our snuggling I think. I am hoping you will still want to curl around me in the early hours of the morning, even if you have to have a sippy in your hands instead of nursing. 

You are beautiful and amazing, my son. As your brother before you, you have this way of making me see the world through the eyes of a child again. I find a new amazement in simple things, like the ability to stand unsupported or the wonder of clapping my hands together. The adorable way you point to things you want, or how you simply nod your head in rhythm instead of full fledged dancing. You are an amazing little creature, and this year has been such a blessing to me. I look forward to the ones in front of us, even as I lament the speed of the one behind. 

Until next time, be good, be happy, and know that I love you.

Love,

Mommy