It felt like it was yesterday when I was rushed into the hospital after a scoop of blood escaped “down there” during my scheduled labor week. But it had actually been two years. It had actually been seven hundred thirty-three days since my winona, my firstborn, became a tangible person that I could touch with every inch of my body.
The thing when I started to have a kid is I also started to wonder how time flies so fast. Yes, I still get impatient about the same things like 6:00 p.m., like Wednesday, and how payday could seem like a distant 2100; but when I see my daughter, she would always make me ask how could she grow up so fast behind my back while I work.
I think babies are a wonder. It feels like they are in a separate time-space continuum – like before we, adults, even realize it, they had already outpaced us and had matured a great deal psychologically in matters that we might or might not want to acknowledge.
Sometimes, I get that tiny sad feeling when I look at my daughter. When I observe her milestones like how she could memorize within five mentions, aside from being happy for her, I also understood that she has grown without me. It feels that she’s been maturing too fast which makes me think tenfold about the future.
Honestly, I don’t want my daughter to grow up too fast because at the moment, I enjoy the feeling of being constantly needed by her. Though parenthood is so much work, I find it fulfilling that there’s actually someone who needs me in all aspects of her life. (Vain right?) It is already her second year and I feel it would be just a few more good series to watch when we could be needing to prepare for her 7th birthday.
Colign, no matter how many birthdays we would get to celebrate in the future to come, my wish would always be: