The Last Night

Tonight's the last night.
The last night that my baby is mine alone. Nobody told me that when I brought Rhys home from the hospital and saw Brea lean down to look at her little brother, I would lose my baby girl. In the blink of an eye, she was a little girl, a big sister and no longer my baby.

Maybe that's why I've been holding on a little longer, a little harder this time. I never pushed bottles on Rhys or worried about carrying him too much. I know that tomorrow when he is six months old, he'll be starting on his path away from me. This is the month when he'll be tasting food not from me and sitting all by himself.

So tonight, as I hold him and nurse him, I'll savour the moment. I'll look at his little face in the glow of the night-light - his little hands curled, his lips slightly puckered, drifting into sleep. My darling baby boy.