Sick

The other day I had a grumpy Mama day.

I was lazy.

I was tired.

I didn’t feel like hopping up to get glasses of water, towels for dripping little bodies, snacks for hungry tummies or just walk those extra steps to see what was so exciting.  All I wanted to do was sit on the couch, enjoy the book I was reading and let everyone else fend for themselves.

Funny thing is…the longer I sat and ignored the needs around me, the worse I felt.

The more times I sighed heavily, let unkind tones slip from my lips and frowns crease my brow the more guilty, frustrated and exasperated I felt.

Then, suddenly, there was a little voice complaining,

“My tummy hurts.”

And before I had a chance to process this, there was vomit all over her jammies, the couch and me.

And you know what?

There, in that moment where I had more reason than ever to let myself catapult off the edge of the self pity cliff, I felt my heart kick into gear.

Gone were the weary muscles, the impatient tones and the self obsessed thoughts.

Suddenly, my mind became consumed with one thing.

My daughter.

She needed clean pajamas, a bath and some medicine.   She needed drinks and blankets.  She needed a bed made up closer to the bathroom and my own room where I would hear her immediately if she cried or threw up in the night.

She needed her Mommy.

It wasn’t until later that night, slipping into bed and leaving my door a crack so I would hear her, that I realized the transition that had occurred in a split second and had to smile.

It no longer mattered that I was tired…I knew I would be up multiple times that night and it was ok.  Instead of wishing I could hide in a corner and finish my book, I felt the irrational worries familiar to mothers playing tag in my mind.

What if she wakes and I don’t hear her?

What if she chokes on her own vomit?

What if her fever spikes while I sleep?

What if I’m missing something?

Does she have enough blankets?

Should I give her more liquids?

I didn’t want to leave her side.  I wanted to be able to see her, feel her and hear her so I knew she was ok.

While I laid awake for an hour in the middle of the night with her fevered face tucked up beside mine, I wasn’t thinking about the lack of sleep I was getting.  I was only thinking…I guess this is what it feels like to be a Mommy.

To wish more than anything that I could take all the yucky, awful feelings away and make her happy and healthy again.

To realize I would do anything for this little life entrusted to my care.

To be overwhelmed with awe that I have been chosen to serve such a beautiful, wonderful, perfect little life.

To be snuggled up next to a smelly, sick little girl and know

I am where I belong.

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