sometimes it comes in waves so strong. The sobs are so strong that I literally can't breathe. It feels like the end of my world. People act like I am being over dramatic and tell me that I will be fine. That life will go on. That I will find a new normal, but in this moment, that is not what I want. I want to prolong this moment - just a little longer. I don't want my role to change. I'm not ready to be done being a full-time mommy. This isn't what I I planned for my life.

They say it will be so great. They say I will enjoy having my days to myself.

But even on the worst days when that thought seems like a saving grace to some degree what people don't understand is that the first day of kindergarten will be my last first day.

Over night my life will change forever.

Many mom's drop their firstborn off at the door and cry, just like I know I will, but then they get back in their beautiful mini-van full of little kids and running noses and all the joys and pain of mother-hood still being needed. Still with their role intact. Still knowing that they have a little one to go home and rock and snuggle and savor the fact that while they did just drop off that firstborn into the big scary world known as kindergarten, they will do it again and gradually change their mommy roll.

I sob knowing that I will come home to a very empty house. A house that I have been in alone before longing and praying for little feet to fill it. A house that I dreamed of filling with many little children and giggles.

I will still have many of the "jobs" of motherhood, but no Curious George, sounds of playing in the bedroom, or the breaking up of my day with Candyland. I have almost never been alone in my house since Tucker was born, and NEVER for more that a few hours. Five years of full time mommy status does not feel like enough.

We have traditions. We like to do playdates to the children's museum at least once a month. We like to go swimming at the Y. We like to go eat with Daddy at work. We like to run to Costco together and we each have our roles: I get what's on the list, and Tucker finds all the sample stations. It's what we do. We have been connected at the hip for more that 5 years. In fact, I have joked for years that Tucker is my full time boss, regardless of what other work-from-home thing I was doing at the time.

What about my friends that we have gotten together with to play and talk as mommy's on a regular basis? I seriously doubt you get invited to those things without kids. I certainly never did before Tucker was born.

How do I deal with my primary purpose and roll changing overnight?

What if I didn't go to the park enough? What if we should have played more Candyland? Is he going to turn into that boy that is too cool to kiss his mommy? When will be the last time that he calls me mommy? Will I be too busy to notice?

The problem with being a mommy to an only child is that every first is your last first, and ever last is your last last. Particularly with the lasts, you never know in that moment that you are experiencing it until long after the moment has passed.

When will be the last time he asks for a "pupcake" (cupcake)? When will be the last time he crawls into bed with me in the middle of the night and flops his chubbylittle arm around my neck? When will be the last time he falls asleep on my lap as I rock him? Will I savor it enough to last me a lifetime?

Last year we went through the ringer of infertility treatments. News flash - I am no longer in my 20's. I am approaching what they refer to (horribly) as "Advanced Maternal Age." I was advised by my midwife that if we ever wanted more that we needed to actively, month after month try. It's not that we hadn't tried - we did, including surgeries, tests, intertility treatmets, etc. Just time to ramp it up. We moved up from general clinic infertility treatments to a regional specialist. We ordered drugs from overseas and Anthony learned how to give me shots - one of my least favorite things in all the world. I suffered through being so sore from the injections that somedays I could hardly walk and hobbled around like an old lady. I went through the process of them learning how to "dose" me correctly and overproducing eggs - 14 of them!!!- and the physical and emotional pain of having to call it off for the rest of the cycle until my body could recover. As usual, during that time we heard tons of pregnancy announcements, and as usual we heard a lot of people that wern't so thrilled with being pregnant. Tucker was also on a huge kick to have a sibling. Always a sister - named Donna (I assume from Adventures in Odyssey). Bekah was pregnant with Clark and Tucker was intent on finding out from her how she got the baby in her tummy so that he could tell me. After drilling Bekah for quite some time one day, he finally came home and told me that he guessed it was a miracle and God put the baby in there. Then he prayed that God would put a baby in my tummy too.

I feel like if we were going to have any more, I really wanted to have them close enough to play together and be good buddies. I selfishly don't want to start over with the diaper bag and sleepless nights when Tucker is much older. I would love to enjoy the baby stage, then move onto the next stage, not backtrack and feel like I am missing something in Tucker's life because I am back in the baby stage. I am open to whatever God's plan is, but for now I am trying to resolve myself to being a mom of 1.

The hardest is the balance between the beautiful thought of free time and the ability to run a quick errand by myself and the awful thought that from now on I'll have so much time alone and when I have to run a quick I'll be all by myself.

Sounds crazy and unresolvable, I know.

How do I go about changing my role? What about dreams? Is now the time to dream? To start to pursue my dreams?

Am I making the most of the time I have left? Am I being overly dramatic about all of this? Is it going to be better than if feels right now? or worse?

I miss my little man already.