The last droplet of milk will fall on this chair. The last swaddle. The last song.

Hours upon hours were spent rocking, praying, crying, smiling and laughing.

The months have drifted by like the seasons; anxiously awaiting for the new things of the next but also sorry to see it all pass.

The sleepless nights, the aches and pains, the struggles of it all are a distant memory. And all I remember when I look in your bright, blue eyes are your tiny fingers and tiny toes, your sweet scent, your tiny body wrapped up in your blue blanket and the innocence of your being.

You take your first step and you smile and clap. I clap and smile with you and tears drop onto my face because I know something you don’t. This is the last first steps. There will be no other.

There will be no more first “mama” and “dada” uttered from a little mouth. No more bottles warmed up in the wee hours of the night. No more car seats carried to and fro. No more droplets of milk will fall.

You cling to me and I cling to you. The scent of baby lotion lingers on your skin and I vow to always remember the smell. I look down at your sweet face, chubby cheeks, long eyelashes, creamy skin and smile. What a gift you are.

You are the last, sweet baby.  The end of an era. An era full of firsts. Full of struggles, hardships, stress, pains, questions, worry, tears and breakdowns. But also full of a love I didn’t know existed. Of wisdom. Growth. A leadership pulled out of me that I didn’t know I had in me. Laughter. Joy. First steps, words, teeth, bubble baths, dance recitals, soccer games, math tests. So many firsts, too many to count.

Yes, the end of an era. And what a grand era it was.