There is something so special about age one. Every mother will agree, when their children are one they are very much still babies. Babies, that is, without the new born worries. The sleepless nights are, hopefully, improving. Not so many night feeds, and nappy changes. If they do start sleeping through then you can too, without waking every hour to make sure they are still breathing (or is that just me?) I love one.
As a birthday approaches I throw myself into planning the occasion. I definitely thrive when I get the chance to be hostess. I love having a party, making a tonne of food and baking cakes so unhealthy they have the potential to cause a heart attack. I don't really think about the age change until the party is over. That's where I am today, sitting, thinking. My 'baby' is suddenly two. Overnight she stopped being a baby. I watched her on her birthday, climbing on the climbing frame as confidently as the older children, riding her new scooter with ease. She resembles a 'little girl' more and more every day.
Little O will be our last child. If circumstances were different, if I didn't suffer so badly with Hyperemesis during pregnancy, if my children actually liked sleep, then I would probably be sitting here considering a third. But I know I can't put my body through another, I couldn't put my family through another pregnancy. I remember the torment of my second pregnancy so vividly. Being sick twenty times a day, (and I know as Hyperemesis goes I was one of the lucky ones) unable to cuddle my eldest as her smell would make me sick. Pregnancy is undoubtedly the hardest thing I have ever gone through.
Although I am happy with our decision to remain a family of four, and I am forever grateful to be blessed with two healthy, contented children, I can't help feeling a little sad. Sad that I will never again hold my own newborn. Sad that I can't call my family with the news 'it's a girl (or boy!)' Sad that I will never again see my children's first bath, first laugh, first steps. Whilst I am not broody for another child, I do want to rewind the last six years so I can repeat all the milestones with the children I already have. I can't tell you where the last six years have gone, and the last two in particular. But, although I am sad, I know it won't last... there is so much more to look forward to.
Today I am going to my eldest daughter's first poetry recital, her first choir performance was on Saturday. My children, are still just that, children. I have a million other milestones to look forward to; Little O's first day at preschool, first dance class, first bicycle. I can watch my girls experience their first time on the ski slopes, their first Harry Potter book, their first kiss. Life goes fast, but every day is filled with moments that make me so proud to be a Mum. Undoubtedly the baby years will be remembered with rose tinted nostalgia. I will forget how dog tired I always was and the stress of being a new Mum. But I will not continue to dwell on the loss of those years, instead I will embrace those that are still to come, all of them, when they are children, and when they are grown up, life will always be a very big adventure.