The Ache of a Mother’s Heart

She was born tiny, gripping my heart.

I got a glimpse, and it already threatens to fade from memory.

Her littleness, never stays put.

She is chained to time, flashing through her milestones.

It breaks a mother’s heart.

In those tiny in betweens of naps and smiles, she is changing.

I wake up today, and she is different.

Grown, heavier, smarter, more aware.

I cling to these moments of normal life.

The giggles, the chubby fingers grabbing my hair, how she stares when we eat.

I force them into my memory, stamping them into water.

How she waves her hands in excitement.

I will likely forget.

I won’t remember the way she rubs my arm as she nods off,

or how much the coffee grinder scared her.

The heavy sigh she does when she finally falls asleep.

Little wonders, tiny delights that fill my heart with joy.

They are here, there, gone.

What is a mom to do, but to soak it up, write it down and try hard to always remember.

Because tomorrow, she will be different.

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