So Big

I’ve officially entered the third trimester and an unexpected feeling has crept up on me.

Rowenna is so big.

I look at the tiny onesies we’re washing and putting away, the itty bitty hats I’ve knitted and set aside for Little Sister’s first days in the world, and I am overwhelmed by how big my sweet girl has gotten. I remember her wearing the same little outfits and I remember wondering if she would ever outgrow them. She just grew so slowly at first. Each ounce was a victory for her, every inch made her a champion.

Her growth seems exponential these days. For every inch my belly grows, it seems she’s doing something new: more signs, new spoken words, new abilities. She’s surprising us right and left with the things she knows. Just the other day I took out a new set of flashcards and was gobsmacked at how many of the pictures she knew. She showed me signs I didn’t even know she had learned – signs someone else had taught her.

There are someone else’s in her life now. Teachers, therapists, and friends with whom she interacts without me there to observe and learn. She lives a life outside mine.

As I prepare for the arrival of a small someone who will depend on me for everything at first, I am constantly reminded of all the ways Rowenna has become independent. How is it possible for my heart to bubble over with pride even as it breaks to think of the sweet girl who needed me for so much?

This week she had her first dental appointment. She went back with the hygienist on her own, they did x-rays, a cleaning, and an exam – all without me there to help. I was faced with the contradictory feeling of being so proud of her for being so brave and oh-so-sad that she didn’t need me there to make it ok. I felt her slip away just a tiny bit that day and watched her grow before my eyes.

New toothbrush!

And while there are days I wish Little Sister was here already so I can hold her and know she is safe, I also want time to simply stop. I want to be able to hug Rowenna close, to feel the solid, confident heft of her, to rest my chin on her head. These days feel so fleeting, and feel faster still as my due date approaches. How much longer will she let me sing to her? How much longer will she pause during some important mission to tilt her head up to me for a kiss? How much longer will she fix me with that intent gaze of hers and gently pat my cheek?

How can I already miss a little girl who is sitting right here in front of me?

And yet I am so proud and so excited for her. I love to see her confident stride as she enters a room. I love to see the smile that lights up her face when she sees a friend she knows. I love the authority with which she tells me she wants something, so self-assured, so clear.

She is such a big girl and I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.