Baby dear...

I can't get enough time with my son. Sometimes, it feels like I blink and he's gone- changed- and the baby in my arms is new and different. Seeing him grow- seeing my life through the lens of motherhood- I am confronted by my own mortality and how life is an hourglass of passing moments. I try to fill my hands with these seconds, to relish their sweetness, but they rush out, washing over me and in a moment they are gone. 

Recently, I've been having spells of melancholy- the kind that is not painful or despairing, but rather pensive and somewhat withdrawn. I find myself staring at nothing and daydreaming about the scent of my son's hair or the feel of his skin. I worry one day he'll leave me to start a life of his own. I fear he will forget his mother. My mother always said having a baby was like falling in love. I didn't believe her until now.