Today you are 6 months old. I’m sure I’ve said the same thing in every birthday note I’ve written to each of your siblings, but I can’t believe you are already 6 months old. At the same time, you’ve completed our family in such a way that it seems like you’ve been with us forever.
When I think about the past six months, I feel like I won the lottery. I couldn’t have possibly gotten a better baby. You have a temperament like I’ve never known before and one I pray you hold onto your entire life. From the minute you arrived in this world, you’ve been mellow, peaceful, and nothing but an absolute joy. Honestly, as I write this and try to think of times you really cried over the last six months, I can barely fill one hand with those moments. You eat, sleep and smile. Like Daddy always says, “You can’t spell smiles without Miles.”
You are happy just to be around those who love you. There is nothing quite like kissing your cheeks and watching your eyes light up while you smile.
I knew from the minute I found out I was pregnant that I’d have a tough time admitting “this was it” with babies. But you are our last baby. I thank God all the time that I got you as a last baby. Your personality comforts me and lets me really enjoy every minute. People, mostly strangers, have been telling me for almost seven years, “Enjoy this; it goes too fast.” It used to drive me nuts, that saying. Now I understand and I’m thankful I noticed how right they all were, just in time to catch every minute of the last six months.
I remember the day your biggest sister turned 6 months. I dressed her in the fanciest party dress she had (we weren’t even leaving the house) and gave her a pile of gifts I wrapped. We had a celebration. I was so excited she was 6 months! It seemed like such a huge milestone and there were so many things I was excited for her to do that I knew she was on the brink of, like crawling, walking, and talking. I just couldn’t wait for her to “do more.” Then I blinked my eyes and I’m shopping for first grade school supplies.
I know it goes by too fast, so I really am enjoying every minute. Sometimes, I feel like I’m in a race against time, and time is certainly beating me. I try to slow down and just soak in every minute of you, my last baby. You make it so easy to do this. Because even when you’re being shuffled between Bible camp and swim lessons in the 100-degree weather, you’re smiling.
When I’m in tears as you wrestle out of your swaddle because I know it’s the last I’ll ever swaddle my babies, you giggle and make me smile too. When it’s late and you’re ready to sleep soundly in bed, you settle in and sleep in my arms instead, as if you know I just can’t put you down.
I know it’s time to move you out of our room. But each morning I wake up and peek over at your big smiling face. And the thing is, if I could scoop up each of your siblings and plop them back into the rock n’ play next to my bed, even for just one more night, I would. So for just a few more nights, I’ll keep you close.
I celebrate all your firsts. I celebrate them with joy, just like I did with your siblings, but also with a bit of sadness. You see little one, all of your firsts mean I am saying goodbye to stages of my life I have cherished. So while I’ll always cheer you on and push you to strive to do the next big thing, know that I’ll do it with a lump in my throat because you are my last baby.
My hope for you is that you will be as happy as you are today for the rest of your life. Your joy is contagious. Over the past six months, I swear everyone in our family smiles a bit brighter. From family and friends to strangers at the store, you smile at everyone. The addition of you to our family brings joy to my heart like I’ve never felt because you’ve completed us in such a special way. For that, I thank you, Miles, my last baby.