The Sweetest of Moments

Wednesday is my first day back to work from being off with my baby on maternity leave for the last four and a half months.  I'm sad, anxious, and dreading leaving him in the care of someone other than myself, even if it is grandmas, aunties, and trusted friends.  It's not me.  It's not the same.  I'm going to miss hundreds of smiles, dozens of giggles, and thousands of sweet moments of his little body held close to me.  To complicate this week further, my husband has been working to fix a car in our garage nightly for the last 2 weeks, and we have Life Groups (like Bible study) starting at our house this Thursday.  So in my little world, that means the garage has to be cleaned and organized so both cars can fit in it to allow for more parking for our visitors, the house has to be cleaned, laundry needs done, and I need to get ready for work.  I feel like I have a million things to do before Wednesday.

In the midst of all this internal angst, my little four-month old baby has been teething for about a month.  He's obviously miserable - drooling, gnawing on his hands (or my hands, or towels, or rags, or whatever he can find except for teething toys because he doesn't like any of them).  He's been extra fussy these last couple of weeks and my heart goes out to him, but it can make for trying hours.  Today he was having a rough time and being very fussy.  He had a clean diaper and he'd woken up from a nap about 40 minutes prior.  I tried feeding him but he wasn't interested.  We'd just been playing on his activity mat for about 5 minutes when he began to wail.  I tried all of his usual calming tricks - walking around the house, swaying, singing to him, even his favorite, bouncing on the exercise ball - all to no avail.  As I was bouncing him, I was holding him in my arms trying to coax him to eat, but he wasn't having it and cried harder.  So I sat him up on my knee and just snuggled him.  He was instantly still.  His little head rested perfectly against my chest, his breathing slowed, he released a heavy sigh.  We rocked back and fourth on the exercise ball, he unmoving, for the better part of 20 minutes.  He didn't want to play.  He didn't want to eat.  He didn't need flashy rattles or stuffed animals suspended overhead, he just needed a snuggle with mom.  He just needed me.  

In those sweet moments my to-do list melted from my mind and all I could do was cry.  Tears streamed down my cheeks as I realized I had only one and half more days to cherish these mid-day meltdowns and comforts.  My heart was so full in that moment.  His sweet breath on my chest, his squished little red lips, and my cheek resting on the top of his sweet-smelling baby head.  Back and forth, back and forth we rocked.  His eyelids became heavy and closed and he slept there, snuggled into me, rocking on that stupid exercise ball.  I cried for probably ten minutes before I could pull it together.  These moments are so incredibly sweet.  Life defining.  And, from what I hear, over in a flash.  I'm absolutely dreading not being there to experience every waking (and napping) minute of my son's days.  Thinking of someone else experiencing those snuggling moments, the fits, and the smiles is enough to bring me to a total meltdown right this very moment.  I hate that I can't be home with him (this coming from the person who never wanted kids) but it just has to be this way for now.  Even the debt-free life costs money and I'm ever thankful for my job (and new part-time hours).

So tomorrow is my last day home with him alone.  My schedule is entirely cleared.  I have no plans except to snuggle and play and nap with my baby.  I'm not answering my phone.  I'm not going anywhere.  Because you never know when it could be the last time, the last day, to enjoy such sweet moments.

Enjoy your moments.

Cheers (and sob),
KDH.