It is 4:15 AM.

Most nights lately I will wake sometimes in the 3 to 4 o'clock hour and not be able to go back to sleep. Maybe it is my body prepping me for the sleepless nights to come with a new baby, maybe it is anxiety. I don't know.This morning though I woke from a dream that was a hard one to shake. So much so that I figured the only way to shake it was to get up, yes at 4:15 am, and write about it.

I started writing it out here in its entirety, and then deleted it. It involved too much death and unresolved unthinkable situations. I decided I did not really want to remember the details of the awful dream, but rather how it motivated me continue forward with more resolved focus to be present in my life.

I think maybe the dream partially stemmed from a prenatal appointment I had yesterday. In the morning I went to see my midwife. At this appointment I also met one of the student midwives that may attend this little boys birth. I was instantly drawn to this woman.  She was kind and easy to talk to. She asked about my boys, their ages and what they were doing. I told her about Oscar starting Kindergarten. We talked about what a beautiful thing it is to watch your child grow and learn and gain independence, but how it is likewise so hard to let go. She genuinely listened to my answers, and we both resonated with the sentiment.

As the appointment went on I learned that she had had a son, but when he was three he passed away. I don't know how, I only know his name and that he has been gone for 5 years. My heart immediately grew for her, and then ached and ached for her. We talked for while about the healing process of that, and how it is continual and never really over. We talked about how losing a child would be, and for her is, one of (if not the) hardest thing to live after. She was kind and open and real, and I felt deeply for her situation. All the while I said little prayers in my mind and heart for her continued healing and comfort, I wished that was not her reality. I must admit I also prayed, begged really, that it would never be mine.

I had her and her son on my mind all afternoon, and I woke up thinking about them after my disheartening dream this morning at 4 AM.

I know I have written and spoken a lot about how bittersweet it is to watch your children grow. That tug on your heart is a constant. It tugs at you to keep them with you and slow down time,  while simultaneously tugging at you to let them grow and let time flow naturally. Like we could have any control on time anyway. But, after my meeting today, I have renewed understanding that there is nothing sad about watching a child grow, The alternative to that is what is truly heartbreaking.

I know it will always be emotional for me to let go of certain beautiful and wonderful stages of my children's lives.  I am writing this to remind myself to try and be fully present with my life, and with the precious people in it. Even when it hurts, even when I am cranky and tired, and even while I am trying (like everyone else) to fit in all the everyday necessities of life too. All I can do is  try to be a part of those moments while they are unfolding, embrace and experience them while they are around me. And when they are done, tuck them safely in my memory as best I can. And then, prepare myself to do it all over again with the next beautiful stage of our lives.