In 3 weeks, Theo will be 3. I can’t believe it! 3. People say time flies when your having fun.. and I must have been having the the of my life, because the last 3 years have flown by. Last Christmas, I bought him a little pair of yellow wellies, from Mothercare, and they have become his little trademark. Almost every adventure we have been on this year, has featured the little yellow wellies. They have a permanent spot in the hall where they are grabbed at a moments notice to go to the park or jump in a puddle, take Harry for a walk or throw stones in the river. Suddenly however, the little yellow wellies have become too little.
He’s growing up, and he’s growing up fast. Every time he reaches a new milestone, it’s wonderful, I get so proud of him, but I get that little twinge of sadness for the stage he’s left behind. When he started to walk, it was wonderful, but he didn’t need me to carry him anymore. When he started to drink from a cup, it was wonderful, but he didn’t need me to breastfeed him anymore. When he started to use the toilet, it was wonderful, but he didn’t need me to change his nappy anymore. Now he wants to feed himself, brush his own teeth, dress himself… and while I’m so proud of him, and so excited to see the little boy he’s growing into, I miss being needed as much.
A major source of frustration I’ve faced being ill, is that I feel like I’ve been missing him. I haven’t been well enough to do the things I normally do. Time flies by and with every passing day he’s a little older. I want to see it all, do it all and take it all in. It is highly likely, that Theo will be our only child… which is not what we had planned, so everything we do I feel like we are only getting to do once.
I know that time will keep marching on, and one night he won’t appear in bed with me, and I’ll miss him. I know one day he won’t want to hold my hand, and I’ll miss him. I know that one day, he’ll be off living in a different house, with a family of his own… and I’ll miss him. I was prepared for that. What I was not prepared for is to miss him now. To have to tell him that mummy is too tired to play today. To send him off to be looked after by family because I need to lie down, to send him and Conor to the park without me, because I’m stuck being sick in the bathroom. It’s hard to miss him while he’s still here. While he’s still mine.
When I was told I had cancer, I only had one thought in my mind. Theo. All I could think of was ‘if I die, he won’t remember me.’ He won’t remember what I sound like, things I say, how my hair smells or how I cuddle him tight. He’ll never know how much I loved him, how much he changed me and how I would have moved heaven and earth to keep him safe. Any mother will understand how completely gut wrenching that thought was… it hurt so much it felt like I was breaking in half.
Yes I get sad when I can’t be with him because I’m not able, but I get so much happiness that I’m still here – and although I’m not out of the woods yet, I will still get to be here. We have lots of time to see and learn and grow together. The baby days might be almost over but I’m not ready to stop having little yellow welly adventures… so I bought another pair, one size up. He’s not going to grow up overnight, and there are still hundreds of little yellow welly days for us to have together, and I’m going to enjoy them and be grateful for every single one.