I just finished rolling Aria around the house a hundred or so times. My feet drummed the laminate and the wheels made their steady rumble. And Aria finally fell asleep. She might have been a month old in that moment. When we’re sick, we all revert back to infants in a way, even if we don’t show it.
Aria had woken up in the middle of the night after falling asleep, hot, feverish, damp with sweat in my arms. Her ravenous gnawing on my empty breasts told me she was more hungry than uncomfortable. A meal of yogurt and bread later was welcomed, but she remained restless and could not fall asleep in my arms. Her frustration was fierce as I walked her between my bed and hers. Finally she gestured down the stairs. I trundled down, thinking she must still be hungry. Instead, her royal majesty, Queen of the Suburbs, gestured to her chariot.
I looked at the clock. One in the morning.
Sure. Of course, m’lady.
She looked impassive as I buckled her in, but it was clear that this was what she wanted.
I moved furniture as I went, until a path was clear.
Then around and around and around and around again. I tried at one point to take her out and incurred her royal wrath.
A half hour later, my liege was out cold.
I wheeled her backward up the stairs and waited for her to rustle in her chair.
When she did, I lifted my little princess into my arms and leather curl up against my chest.
I could’ve taken her to her crib at this point, but deep maternal instincts drove me to lay my feverish child beside me in my kingsize bed.
All I want in the world is to nurse her in her sickness. I rescheduled all my meetings and rebuffed the idea from a co-worker yesterday of an app to find a babysitter specializing in sick kids. It seems all a part of the deepening maternal change in me. Moments like these seem less inconvenient and more at the heart of life itself.
I say that now. We’ll see where I’m at in another 24 hours 😉
Anyway, really savoring being a mom these days. Two weeks of vacation being a mom 24-7 seemed to hook me. Nice to have a reset inside on what’s most important in life. Hmm. Maybe not even what’s most important, but on what brings the most joy. Who’s to say what’s most important? But spending time with my husband and daughter, in sickness and health — I can definitively say, that is the heart of it all.