Pray not to miss it!

An experienced mama friend of mine told me something while I was pregnant that I didn't know would end up being the best advise I heard the whole 9+ months. She has a precious son who will be one in August and both Brad and I have just loved watching her and her husband parent their little boy. Brad would steal this kiddo if he could sneak him out of his nursery one day and make him part of our family. He hopes Brooks grows up to be just like him!
Anyway, a mama-friend had told her to pray that she doesn't miss "this" - whatever stage "this" is....
It is so easy to look towards the next stage with much anticipation. Now that we have a newborn at home who likes to wake up and party a few times at night it is so easy to wish for the day when he might want to dream a little longer and therefore, let me sleep a bit more. I can't lie, I have sat in my swivel chair a few times these past 10 days with my eyes so heavy and weary and I have thought for a split second that a full night of sleep would fix everything but I quickly pray, "Lord, help me not to miss this. Help me to rest right in this moment and enjoy every part of it....his innocent sounds, his wondering eyes when they meet mine, his teeny tiny hands and feet and his utter dependence on me. Father, I ask you to do this now so that I do not miss anything." And this prayer has truly been what has gotten me through these first weeks with somewhat of a level head. I can sleep when I die, right? Sleep is overrated when you have a little man wanting to wake up and be with you during the night. I can honestly say that I have enjoyed our nights together. We pray. I sing. He cries when I sing so I may have to get a cd player in the room or something. We stare at each other and relive those months together. I try to bundle him up in a ball just to see what he was like when he was in my stomach. He is now back to his birth weight of 8.1lbs so it is even more realistic to think this is the little booger that took up all my room and gave me heartburn for 9 straight months. He even has this pose that he does when I lay him on my lap that I know was his favorite position in his temporary home.....one leg straight out in my ribs and the other curled up jabbing my side. I still can't believe I was ever pregnant or that I will ever be a mom. When will reality hit me that this has already happened and that I am already a mom?
Now, the opposite is also true as well. Often I look at the little buttercup and I get weepy just thinking that one day he will have to go to college and one day he will fall off of his bicycle and get hurt. And one day he will hurt me and he may disappoint his dad. One day, too, he will have his own family and maybe look at his own son the same way we do. I know I am sounding like a fruitloop thinking so far ahead but I get so emotional just thinking that he won't always be the perfect 10 days old. He won't always need me in the middle of the night. And therefore, I continue to pray that I don't miss a thing and that I truly enjoy every single day, every single sound - even the loud ones, every single outfit, every single attempt to smile and every single poot or funny noise that comes out of him ( I love these in the middle of the night...quite entertaining). Thank you to my sweet mama friend for the best advise a mom to be could hear!