Letting Go….

I sit here tonight, listening to the sounds of my husband giving Weeble Wobble his bath, I can hear them sing silly songs, count, talk about letters and colors. I hear Greg tell him that he needs to wash his belly and behind his ears, I hear them talk about brushing teeth, rinse, gargle and spit. Soon I know I’ll hear the sounds of bedtime stories, last kisses good night and Greg closing the bedroom door. I’m not part of it, and it’s breaking my heart. Greg has taken over Greyson’s night time routine, mostly in an effort to cut out that bedtime nursing session, and because Greyson does need to be put to bed by more than just mommy. I know that in a week or so once he’s adjusted I’ll be able to step back in and take my turns at the night night routine, and that for now I just need to stay out of sight or Greyson will want me and it makes it worse, but it’s literally killing me. It’s one of those moments where as a mother you are proud and happy that your child is growing and taking the necessary steps to his own independence, but that act of letting go makes you feel helpless, like part of you is missing. I ache to go in and hold him, I go to sleep at night hoping that he’ll wake up (after months of praying he’d sleep through the night!!!) so that I can go in and do what I do best – comfort, hold, cuddle, soothe. My arms literally ache, I can feel them twitch with the need to hold my son. I hate this. I hate letting go and I know it’s just the beginning…

Good night sweet boy, mommy will see you in the morning, when I’ll hug you a little tighter and snuggle you a little longer and probably throw in a couple of extra kisses too!