Milo recently turned five. FIVE! I love seeing how he changes as he gets older, how much he surprises us with the things he understands and says. We are in awe of how imaginative, strong, loving, and funny he is. We are those parents who can't believe how cool we think our kid is. But I’ll be honest, five is a BIG KID number and it kind of made me miss my baby a bit. My little guy I wore everywhere and nursed for years the one who wouldn’t sleep unless he was touching me and who totally tried to say I love you back one time when he wasn’t even talking yet. I found myself crying and sad and having so many feelings I didn’t quite know what to do with them.
On the eve of Milo’s birthday, after making his cakes, both blueberry and chocolate, and wrapping his presents, I went up to bed feeling a bit melancholy. Thinking I would watch a show or read a book to take my mind off of how I was feeling, I got into bed. Tim was still downstairs, so I was alone in our room. I ended up just sitting there for a bit, in the spot where five years before I was in labor, where I was at the beginning of my biggest dream coming true (and the beginning of the pain, I’m still real about it). I am a sappy human, if you know me, you know. So I was there, feeling all the feelings.
Every night Milo goes to sleep in his own bed, but ends up crawling into bed with us somewhere between 12am and 4am. It’s something Tim and I welcome him doing for as long as he wants to. He comes into our room all slowly, eyes barely open, if at all, and often grinning. I usually hoist him over my body and he curls up between us and falls right back to sleep. I found myself wishing that Milo were already in bed with me, but it was too early and I didn’t want to go get him and wake him. Plus I do like a little time to myself where he isn't cuddling me so closely you'd swear he was trying to crawl back into my body. At the very moment I was thinking about how much I’d love for him to be there, in he came, earlier than he ever does. He came in in his usual fashion, slowly and sweetly, but instead of wanting me to pick him up and put him in bed next to me, he crawled up and into my lap and fell right back to sleep. It was like he KNEW, he FELT it too. The universe knew exactly what I needed and delivered. It's hard for me to even express how this felt. Exactly five years from the time he was preparing to leave my body and join me and Tim, he sensed what I was feeling, or maybe in his sleep he was feeling the same, I don't know. Whatever the reason, however it happened, he knew. I held my baby, my almost five year old baby for the longest time. I soaked up his smells and basked in the feeling of our connection and how much I love him. Eventually I decided I was ready to go to sleep too and moved him over next to me, but I think otherwise he may have stayed there all night.
