Once upon a time,
I gave birth to a tiny, sweet baby.
And then, I turned my back for just one small second,
and my newborn turned into an 8 and a half month old girl.
A real person.
And suddenly, she no longer fit in the blankets that once swaddled her tight;
She no longer fit in the undershirts that were just soft enough for her delicate skin;
She no longer fit in the box of “baby baby”;
For the first(of what I hope is many a) time,
she was out of the box.
And so, it came time for me to pack her too-small things away.
So I folded her tiny cotton onesies with great care;
I stroked her hospital blankets against my cheek, remembering the feel of her, new, on my chest.
I breathed them in.
They still smell like her.
They still smell like baby soap.
They still smell like a newborn,
but my baby does not.
She now smells like sweet shampoo
and syrup.
And I cried as I put her baby baby things into boxes and sealed them up tight.
How could this have happened?
I only turned my back for one small second.
Happily ever after needs to start slowing down a bit.
I can’t keep up.
I need more time to breathe her in.
I need to soak up the scent of syrup before it passes me by.
Once upon a time my world started to move at a pace that I could never have imagined,
as it became richer and more beautiful than I could ever have dreamed.
Once upon a time,
I gave birth to a tiny, sweet baby,
and she
and my love
have been growing
ever since.