Not letting go of Ivan

I keep looking at what a big boy Ivan has become, especially when he's sleeping peacefully at night. I feel like time is running away from me and that he's slowly but surely slipping away from me. I just want to hold him and hug him tight and not let go of him because I fear if I do that he'll go away and I'll never catch him again. I know this is probably a premature thought considering that he's not even three years old, but I know that eventually it's inevitable.

That brings uncontrollable tears to my eyes. I'm sure these feelings are super-amplified because I'm on a post-partum emotional rollercoaster, but they're nevertheless there.

And then I think back to last month, when I took him to church for St. Nicholas Day, when they were distributing presents for kids (well, the parents each brought a present and someone dressed up as St. Nicholas after the mass and gave presents to the kids.) This was the first time since he was a baby that we took him to the church, so he really had no recollection of ever being there. He behaved very well. While we were waiting for St. Nicholas to come, some of the kids--mostly older girls, who I assume come to Sunday school regularly, had lined up in front of the altar so parents could take their pictures. I made Ivan go up there as well. He willingly listened and obeyed. He was the last one in line, looking at me, smiling and listening to me. He was the smallest one up there. I don't know whether he felt lost and confused, considering he had never been there and didn't know any of the kids, but he stood there, and listened to me. I felt like I could've asked him to do anything and that he'd listen. It made me realize how small, vulnerable and totally trusting he was of me, his mother. And I just wanted to hug him, squeeze him tight to protect him and never let go.