Last night we had a rough night. You were up at just before 2am, yowling, and because you can’t talk yet, we can only guess that it was teething pain.
You were inconsolable, despite a Calpol dosage, despite coming into our bed, despite a bottle of milk, and despite my atrocious singing, which ordinarily you love. You were clingy and in pain, and whimpering in a way that made little shards of my heart. I’ve spoken about the pain of a parent when their kid is in pain, and it’s not only awful, but most of the time there is not enough we can do to make it go away quickly enough.
But what last night reminded me too is what a privilege looking after you is. I may not be able to heal or Make It All Go Away, but I’m there with open arms (while Dad has the syringe filled with Calpol). I may lie there worried about your pain, covered in drool, you whimpering next to me, clinging on for comfort, but you need me, we’re connected, and that’s cool.
That you reach for me and look to me for comfort are two of the most rewarding things about being your mom, and it’s a privilege and gift to be able to be there for you and try to lessen your pain.
Forever with open arms, and pain meds and plasters,
Liked this post? Follow this blog to get more.