Remembering

 I honestly believe that I remember what it was like to hold my babies in my arms when they were new. What it felt like to pick them up while they instinctually curl their little frog legs into my chest. To watch their jerky movements as they stretch their muscles and discover the space around them. Their drawn out yawns, smacking lips and squeaky stretches. The feeling of their body as they root around and hilariously attempt to latch onto my cheek when I have them draped over my shoulder. Their toes that grip around my finger and their tight little fists that open while held. The feeling of meeting, getting aquatinted with and loving an old soul in an adorable new squishy body.

The truth is, it's not until I am in the throes of nurturing a new little one, that I truly remember its actuality with my others. To love and fall in love with my newest baby, is to love and fall in love with my older babies all over again. Because it's then and only then, that I properly remember and wholly treasure what it was like to hold them in my arms when they were new.