To My Last Baby

I will miss you sleeping in my arms, contended sighs that only I can hear.  I will miss being the one who knows just the right bounce to calm you down.  I will miss the visits of family and friends who come to meet you.  I will miss the emails of congratulations and support we received when you were born.  I will miss your fingers gently tickling my side while you feed.  I will miss the way you burrow into my chest.  I will miss the wonderful smell of your kissable head.  I will miss the days you spent in the wrap, protected and cuddled while the world went by.  I will miss rolls on wrists and pudgy fingers.  I will miss the many firsts that get harder and harder to keep track of.  I will miss watching your face change in those early weeks.  I will miss watching your big brothers dote on you.  I will miss relaxing on the couch to feed you.  I will miss those little knit slippers.  I will miss the peacefulness of a swaddled baby.  I will miss your blanket, the one we got ready in anticipation of your birth.  I will miss the jolly jumper in the doorway.  I will miss babyhood.  I guess that's why your baby is always your baby.