Yesterday I took some photos of my Ellie Belly. Her last afternoon as a four year old. How is it that I am even saying that? I swear it was only yesterday that I was almost 42 weeks pregnant, walking up and down, round and round trying to get my stubborn bubba to vacate my over-this-pregnancy uterus.
In those early days and weeks, when I was getting used to the whole mum deal and didn’t know I was struggling with PND, when my baby woke hourly and had colic and reflux and I felt like a complete mess, I thought the days were SO LONG. And the nights were even longer.
And then, somehow, those long nights sped up and years passed.
All too quickly.
I wish I could go back and soak so much more of her in, spend even more time just being together, stop wishing the time away and enjoy holding her – even if it was 2am in the morning and I’d been up six times that night already.
Since I can’t go back, I’ve just been holding her a bit tighter and making sure we’re playing and talking more.
But, five? Really??
Linking up with Jess from Diary of a SAHM for IBot