Lately, I've been revelling in all the goodness late July has brought to me: a tiny newborn baby, a very large finale to the Harry Potter series, and a maternity leave.
But as I'm now on page 693 of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and I know what the deathly hallows are, and very probably, who is going to die, and I can't take it. I can't finish it. Because then, it will be over, and then what will I do?
When I finish, when I know Harry's fate for certain, what is left for me? Only four or so more weeks of maternity leave, of this special precious time where I can enjoy my children without having to dwell on the demands of work, when I can off to a doctor's appointment or the coffee shop without having to set three "away" messages and triplecheck my email, when I can plan a trip to the zoo in the middle of the morning without the slightest feeling of guilt.
And, what's worse, a newborn that will only be a newborn for the shortest, fleetest amount of time, who has already progressed from naming his age in "days" to "weeks" (two of them, and then some, now!), who will shortly have to graduate to "months" and then will no longer be so little, so fragile, so unknown. It is a constant and melancholy problem of motherhood: much though you long to know what will become of this tiny being thrust so bloodily from my body? -- at the very same time, you wish to hold this moment forever, to always drink in the delicious soft sweet smell, to peer into the wrinkled froglike face and have everything, everything open for wonderment. Not for long will this seven-pound, 14-ounce being depend upon me so utterly; not for long will I be able to carry him in my sling and barely know he's there. Soon, one eye will no longer stay partially closed from the newness of light, giving one the distinct impression that he has still to discover his presence in this world.
Much though I love to progress through milestones, items on my to-do list, seasons, years, I am filled with the longing for this day to last forever (kind of like Larissa said in this post only a month ago -- and the moment, it has already passed).