The way she needs me

One of the things I've struggled with most as a mother to Keelyn, is her level of independence at an early age. As soon as she could crawl, which was early, she was crawling away from me. It brings me inexplicable joy to watch her wander off and explore things...to solve little problems on her own...to amuse herself sometimes even to the point of laughter. She keeps me close by, but she likes to go off and do. And my emotions are mixed on that one. There are days when a little more cuddle time would be nice...she's still a baby, after all.

At the moment, she happens to be very sick. A harmless little cold decided to plant itself in her sinuses, and cause a lot of pain and fever. The first antibiotic didn't sit well, so we are on to the second. For about 72 hours now, she has wanted no one but me. And when I say "the past 72 hours," I don't mean except for when she's sleeping or eating...I mean for all 72 of those hours, she has wanted me, and only me.

At about 11pm last night, I found myself sharing a few tears with her as she cried inconsolably. I was just as exhausted, just as frustrated, just as concerned. My back hurt. My arms were tired. The pile of papers in front of my computer that hadn't been touched all week was threatening to spontaneously disorganize if I didn't get to it NOW.

But as she finally calmed herself to sleep in my arms, I found myself so grateful for the moment. There she was, sharing her breath with me, her head on my shoulder. Her own little shoulders melting into the bed as her body let go of the fight. Her little fingers rubbing mine as she closed her eyes. Her body curled up against me, just as she laid as a newborn. Her satin blankie covering us both, keeping our warmth in.

For the past 72 hours she has needed me in a way only a baby can need her mommy. Soon she'll be better, and perhaps I'll be more grateful than ever for her busy little body running around the house away from me again. But these moments are precious. The opportunity to be needed in this way is precious. The possibility of caring in this way is precious.

Right now she's asleep in her crib for the first time in days. And. I. Miss. Her.