Too magic to miss

Not a day goes by when I don't wish I could freeze time. No matter how mundane the day is, at some point or another, one of my children will do or say something that I wish I could hold on to.

You can take all the photos and video footage in the world, but there are elements of babyhood and childhood that simply cannot be captured.

The sensation of your baby's skin caressing your own.

The clear depths of a newborn's eyes, staring at the new world.

The melodic burbling of a happy baby playing with their toes.

The sight of your three children, sitting together in a corner, quietly reading and showing each other the pictures.

My Mouse, dressed in a pinafore and red stripy onesie, blue bunny ears perched atop her blonde curls, playing with the doll's house and narrating with baby talk in a voice I could listen to all day.

Jack with his new goggles on, coupled with his school uniform and the proud grin of a boy who's just gone up a level at swimming.

Phoebe lying on her tummy on the floor, legs kicking in the air, colouring in her Charlie and Lola book and drawing butterfly wings over, and over.

I learned a long time ago that there needs to be a balance between attempting to crystallise these moments on film, and actually living the moment with your children. As magic as it is to watch your children's babyhood on camera again, and again, it is just as wonderful to sit and enjoy it, hearing their piping voices, feeling their soft chubby arms around your neck, being handed a dolly or a car to participate in the game.

The girls and I popped in to see Argie this morning. It was gorgeously sunny, and Phoebs and the Mouse were in fine form. Not long after we arrived, Miffy and her glorious bump (which has been dubbed 'George' for the duration of her pregnancy) knocked on the door to join us for a cuppa.

My beautiful younger sister is due in November, and she has blossomed into the epitome of glowing motherhood. I have terrible bump envy, since hers is round and firm and quite simply lovely. I could sit with my hands on Miffy's tummy all day, just waiting for George to kick.

While I was chatting to Argie, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. One of the magical moments of childhood that would never have translated on camera, but one that I could not bear to lose to the passages of time.

George must have been belting it's poor mother up a storm, because Miffy beckoned to Phoebalina and pointed to her jumping belly. Gingerly, Phoebe reached out her little hand and placed it on her unborn cousin. The enormous grin that spread across her face when the baby kicked her hand was incredible. With Miffy smiling and encouraging, Phoebe started talking to George, encouraging it to kick.

To watch my daughter experience the early movements of her first cousin in utero was amazing. She was clearly overawed by the idea there was a real, live baby inside Aunty Miffy's tummy, but also thrilled that she could feel it move. The Mouse has thrust her paws onto Miffy's belly for months now, exclaiming, "Bubba!" before making a quick exit. Perhaps for her, the memory has not yet faded?

Watching my sister and my biggest girl today, I started to think how precious these moments are. How, in years to come when both Phoebe and her unborn cousin are teenagers garbed in head-to-toe black, my sister and I will remember this day of delight and discovery.

I didn't have a video to save the memory. I didn't have a camera. And in a way, I'm glad. Because I was able to sit and savour the 30 seconds in time that this vignette took, and simply enjoy it. I knew I was seeing something very special. Not only because it was a unique moment in Phoebalina's life, but also in my sister's.

Motherhood was never a given for my little sister. Like so many women, she was told that she would most likely never carry a child of her own. That if she did ever conceive, it would most likely be via medical assistance. The fact that George is thriving in her belly is a dream come true, for so many people. That anybody ever gets pregnant is amazing, if you consider the obstacles the female body puts in place for the hapless sperm. When you are *ahem* 'reproductically challenged', the odds are even tinier.

All motherhood is a miracle, of that there is no doubt. Whether you became a mummy by conceiving easily, or after years of trying; whether you are a mummy via surrogacy, adoption, or fostering; or even if you are a wishful mother-in-waiting, sitting under the stars at night, holding your breath for the universe to bring you your baby.....all motherhood is a blessing. It does not matter if your held your baby inside your body, or held them for the first time when they were born, or when your baby was several months or years old. Regardless of how you become a mother, at the bottom line, the love is all one and the same.

I know this little niece or nephew of mine will be joining three very excited cousins in a few months. He or she is already very, very loved and very, very wanted. I know that my little sister will be so grateful and happy to become a mummy that she will most likely want to record every smile, every hiccup, every yawn of her firstborn. But I hope she will leave most of that to me, so that she can just enjoy the moment. It's too magic to miss.