Like it’s my last

I’m not sure if this is the last time.

The last time I feel sensation of life stirring inside of me.

The last time my body grows every inch of a human being, and I grow with it.

The last time I feel, like really feel, the comfort that comes from being the only home to someone I have not yet met, but want to protect for the rest of my life.

I’m not sure.

But it’s possible.

It’s possible that there will never be more bump photos, or name discussions, or opportunities to carry such privilege.

And although at times I’ve been tested through pregnancy, this possibility leaves me with a lump in my throat.

Is it the beginning of all firsts and lasts?

Is this the first of the lasts?

Is this my last baby?

I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

Maybe I’ll never be.

But I am sure of one thing.

I’m going to live every day of my continued motherhood like it’s my last.