The Last One

My youngest just turned one. O.N.E.!!! 

I want to hit the pause button. This is such a bittersweet moment as my husband and I have decided that he will be our last one. 

We have decided that our family of four is complete (unless God decides otherwise ofcourse). I won’t lie, I am still hopeful for a little girl to go shopping and enjoy girl things with me. But if we choose to have another one, there is a 50% chance that it will be another boy. We will be outnumbered and overrun by boys!

I still have a hard time wrapping my head around this sometimes. But I can’t ignore the fact that our family feels good right now. There are two of them and two of us. Two of everything. When I’m busy attending to one, the other will have someone. It seems perfectly ideal. 

So, I am happy that my little brown haired boy has reached another first by celebrating his birthday. But I am also so very sad because it is the last first birthday that we celebrate. 

Don’t get me wrong, there are still a lot of firsts to celebrate for both my boys. But Teo will be the last little “fish” moving inside my tummy. The last one who keeps me up in the wee hours of the morning. The last one who will be chained to my hip all day. 

So I relish all his firsts more. First smile. First tooth. First step. First birthday. First word. 

Nowadays, he runs like the wind. But he still likes to be carried as he enjoys the view from the top watching me go about doing things. At times, my arms ache from the weight of carrying him (He’s hefty at 23lbs). But I do not complain. There will come a day when I can no longer carry him and he won’t want to follow me around the house. So I carry him a bit longer. Love him a little bit more. Because he is my last one. 


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