Monday Moment: "He won't remember this time"

Yesterday was my best friend's son's 2nd birthday and while at her house celebrating, I had a conversation with another woman who just gave birth to her second child; her kids are the same ages apart as Nick and Zoe will be. She was telling me how she's managing, and as the conversation evolved she mentioned that her older daughter won't remember a time without her younger daughter. She was just too young when the littler one was born. She looked at Nick, then looked at me and said, "He won't remember this time, either."

I haven't been able to get her words out of my mind since. "This time" has been the most important two years of my life, every moment lived for and with this little man. And to think that his memories of his life won't include a second of it - that he won't remember our pre-Zoe afternoon naps and cuddles, the way we shared our breakfast every morning or how we watched Mickey Mouse Clubhouse in the mornings, him on my lap holding my ear. He won't remember how we went everywhere together, just him and me. How I would hold him while I cooked dinner and walk him through the steps. He won't remember how it feels to be #1, the one and only; he'll only recall being one of two now. And I cried, and cried, and cried last night. It seems unfair that Nick won't remember this time except for what I capture for him on film, video, and in my writings to him.

So I am spending these last few days taking more photos, more video, writing more down. I want him to know in a lot of detail what our life was like before Zoe, so he knows how loved he has been and how much I've invested - how much everyone who loves him has invested - in making him feel as special and important as possible. All of that will continue of course. But for some reason I feel the need to make sure he knows that once, for a time, it was just him and me. And I loved it that way. His sister is a gift to him, hopefully a friend and ally for life, but before she came was a memorable time. For sure, these have been the most magical years of my life - not the easiest, but the most rewarding.

I'm off now to nap with him for one of the last times as just his mama, alone.