Jami and a New Beginning

If I were to take a page from EDW's book and title posts with lyrics, this one would be "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end". Yes, this is another post about my recent birth-giving and I'm not going to apologize for that and the several more that will probably follow. It's sorta the biggest thing going on in my life at the moment. On the way to the hospital, I had plenty of conflicting emotions. One of the biggest was that as tired as I was of the pregnancy and all the stresses, hardships and just plain stupid pregnancy stuff that went with it, I felt sad knowing this was the end (or, at least the beginning of the end, since I didn't know at the time that my labor would last approximately 7 million hours. Okay, only about 59, but still. Felt like 7 million.) I thought of the above lyric in the car, as we drove down Rt. 88 - the end of the pregnancy, the beginning of Finn. And before that, the end of my body being totally mine, the beginning of my pregnancy. Knowing from having Eddie that the end of each stage is so bittersweet and that they come so blindingly fast. I sort of miss having him in there. Don't get me wrong, since I was released from my stupid eating restrictions the moment he came out, I loved being not pregnant. I love holding him and hearing his little noises, his soft newborn hair and skin. I love staring at his perfect tiny face and admiring the many, many different expressions he makes. And of course, rolling over in the night, not peeing every 36 minutes, all the stuff that makes it great to not be pregnant. But I do miss the feeling of knowing he was in there. I miss the relief of getting kicked even though I didn't like how it felt. I miss the anticipation of his impending arrival and the excuse to swan about a little. And I think of how I'll miss this stage so soon from now. I'll miss him being tiny and totally dependant. I'll miss newborn smell and funny noises and him fitting in one arm, but I have to remind myself at that stage to enjoy the things I'll miss when that new beginning is at its end. Time moving forward only is so unfair. Can't I keep this moment? Save it and come visit it next year? And in 50 years?