The Bittersweet thing about babies- They grow
For a brief moment today, I sat and thought about when my first child, Violet, was a new baby. Time almost stood still when she was born, and the weeks and months that followed felt blissfully long, no matter how tiring they were. I’d sit beside her while she lay asleep in her cot, captivated by the tiny, perfect little person we had managed to create, for hours on end. I’d prop her up in her chair next to me while I’d make her home cooked puree’s and spend hours walking around the shopping centre with her quietly sleeping in her pram.
The first year of her life was like a long, warm spring morning. The kind that you want to soak in through every single pore. Time, as a concept itself, slipped away as we were consumed by our beautiful, comfortable day-to-day. And it wasn’t until her first birthday that I realised how much she had grown and how much time had passed.
Two months after her first birthday we found out that I was pregnant with our second child. We were over the moon! Only, from then on out, time seemed to only travel more quickly. Before we knew it I was 20 weeks pregnant and half way to meeting our beautiful second daughter. Big things happened, we packed, we moved and then we moved again. And suddenly Matilda was in our arms, and my beautiful Violet was a big sister.
Life honestly has felt like a big blurry dream since. The kind of dream that jumps from one moment to the next without ever really elaborating on how you got there, you just… got there. It’s undoubtably just as beautiful as those long days with Violet, only now life seems to jolt forward at a pace I can’t help but notice. The mornings flitter past in the blink of an eye, even the early, early morning starts. And it feels as though with every blink our girls get taller, and brighter and more full of life.
It is so bittersweet, to love your life so much. It is the greatest blessing you could possibly imagine, but also to watch it move at light speed aches in a way. I seem to grasp at every tiny moment I can before they slip away.
Matilda is fast approaching one now, and I feel as though the first year of her life hit us at running pace and isn’t looking like slowing any time soon. It doesn’t feel like we’ve had the slow, warm, endless spring morning like it did when Violet was a baby. Less outings, less sleep watching and far, far less home made puree. But somehow, although things seem to move so incredibly quickly, I manage to find the soft and quiet moments with both of my girls. The moments that remind me how beautiful this season of our life is right now. And I’ll always vow to cease these moments as they come, to breathe them in. They may be fleeting, but they are so, SO incredibly beautiful.