Tweet I can feel each and every beat of my heart, each breath I take. It is as if my heart and my lungs are being held in place with barbed wire, so that each time they move, I am cut. With each deep breath I try to take, I taste the metallicness of blood dripping on rusted wire. Except that's not what is happening at all. It just feels that way.
Firsts are usually celebrated. First time you found out you were pregnant. First time you heard the heartbeat. First time you found out if it was a little boy or a girl. First delivery. First cry. First feeding. First diaper. First time rolling over, sitting up, crawling, walking. First time saying mama. First time riding a bike, going to school, putting the ponytail in all by herself. First dance recital, first sleepover.
I find myself now navigating this precariously fragile world of Firsts Without.
First spring day where she isn't going to ride her bike. Instead, the bike is just going to sit there. Waiting. Waiting for a girl who cannot come.
First time going to Anchor Inn and not ordering a cheeseburger because she isn't here to eat it.
First time being woken up by a storm and realizing there will be not footsteps scurrying down the hall, the door will not open, and her slender body will not fold back the blankets and slide in close.
I feel overwhelmed by Firsts Without. I could drown myself in Firsts Without: first time going to the gas station without. First time grocery shopping without. First time going to the dentist without. Without, without, without.
And then I think: did I realize there were this many Firsts With?
Did I seek out and take joy in the first time my child stood on tiptoe to fish out the mail? Or did I only notice the "important" firts? Did I seek out and take joy the first time I walked into Bed, Bath and Beyond holding the hand of my child? Or, instead, did I rattle of a list of rules: hold on to my hand, don't touch anything, don't get lost. Did I sit back and take notice of the first time she snapped her pants all by herself? Or did I just note how my life got that much easier now that she was one step closer to self-sufficient?
Why do so many of the Firsts With seem overlooked... while all the Firsts Without seem glaringly obnoxiously cruel and hurtful?
What causes us to overlook the plentiful ordinary Firsts With? Do we convince ourselves they're not that big of a deal? Are our lives too busy? Are we that all-consuming that we forget to even take notice the first time she puts a stamp in the right corner of an envelope? Or the first time she squeezed the toothpaste on without oozing half the tube on counter?
What would happen if we slowed down? What would happen if we all took a Mommy Time Out, pushed everything out of our head and just watched with? Today, I challenge you...
I challenge you to take the most beautiful First With you can take... for the next twenty minutes forget about the laundry and the dinner that must be made; forget about the bills and the garbage and the sticky stuff on the kitchen floor you can't identify. Instead, for the next twenty minutes, get on the same level as your child. Lay on the floor, sit on your knees, climb up the tree house take a seat and criss-cross-applesauce on the rough plywood floor.... and really look at them. Memorize the curve of their neck and the mole by their left temple. Watch their fingers as they put together Lego's and drink in the way their lips move when they talk. Take a mental photo of that unruly cowlick, the pointed elbow and the feet that surely one day they'll grow into.
For the next twenty minutes, take full and complete notice of how truly beautiful, how truly wonderfully made this child is. Your child. Do it now. Because you will not have the opportunity when you are Without.