In my neighborhood, I recognized the tell-tale signs of the slender green shoots of daffodils and the broad leaves of tulips popping up from the ground.
Strolling with my boys, I mused aloud to them, telling them of the signs of spring, the bulbs bursting from the ground, soon to display their vibrant colors. And as I rounded the corner, I spied the whites, purples and pinks of freshly planted hyacinths.
It’s a welcome change to see the sights of renewal. Amid the drear and gloom of a wet, gray winter – complete with erratic temperatures – the first reminders of spring bring with them the reminder of a new season of rebirth.
It seems apt, then, that as I scrolled through Timehop, I was reminded of being 16 weeks pregnant at this time last year. The boys were the size of two avocados, and I was still struggling with morning sickness.
What a difference a year makes! Having just attempted avocados as one of their first foods, we can attest that it is not a flavor they enjoy – much like their mom.
From avocados to 17 pounds of smiling, eager-to-crawl, cuddle-bug infants – this spring brings with it a number of very welcome changes.
But with change comes, also, a sense of nostalgia and a reminder that this season, too, will come to an end.
As I rocked my baby the other night, I breathed in his sweet infant smell and felt his body relax and become dead weight in my arms. His head dropped down on my shoulder as he melted his tiny body into mine. How many more moments will I have like this? How quickly have they grown from taking up only half of my arm to nearly outgrowing – in length – the width of my nursing chair?
In a recent Hallmark video clip that went viral, a mother cherishes various moments in her children’s lives. As the commercial flashes from infancy to older children, the message remains the same: the fleeting quality of the first years of life. In one of the scenes, the mother bathes her child, making bubbles and playing together in the soapy tub as a voiceover says, “There will be a day when you make your final bubble beard” before cutting to a teenager behind a shower curtain yelling to “get out!” as the mom puts away towels.
With each dramatized moment, the struggle of motherhood becomes clear – a reluctance to part with the tiny lives with which we have been entrusted.
Like the return of spring, I’m conscious of the season of infancy – the period of time in which these baby boys are solely dependent on me. The moments in which each day seems a confluence of emotion: from laughter to crying, from falling and feeling like failing to rising and dusting myself off – all under the auspices of love, a love so deep that it’s indescribable.
I’ll continue cherishing these moments, knowing that they’ll come to an end all too quickly. But in the meantime, I’ll describe the burgeoning season – the colors that will soon be popping, the animals that will soon be emerging from hibernation, and the warmth that will soon envelop us – and look forward to a not-so-distant day that we’ll be planting tulips, daffodils, and hyacinths together.