I’ve been trying to upload a whole bunch of photos so that I could update without blathering on for a year, but I think the techi gods are against me as they’re messing up all of my plans and not letting me do what I’m trying to do. So we’re just going to have to move on.
I’ve had some really beautiful, happy moments lately. Yesterday, when I was rocking Avery, trying, trying, trying to get her to doze off so that I had twenty minutes to myself while both girls napped, I realized I was stressing out about it. Why wouldn’t she just friggin’ go to sleep already? I was nursing and shushing and rocking and bouncing and trying to force feed her the binky. But she just looked up at me from my breast, blinking her lashes, and grinning playfully at me when I teased her with my nipple. That’s when some words from a former co-worker popped into my head, “you’re wishing your life away.”
It dawned on me that that was exactly what I was doing. Even if it was only 20 minutes that I was looking for, I was willing to trade this moment with my baby for silence and solitude. My priorities were off at that moment. What was I thinking? I have the rest of my life to fold the laundry, but how long will I have this precious little creature whose only desire is to get attention from me? To drink from my breast? To be cuddled and kissed and rocked by no one other than me?
I felt like an asshole. So I gave up my desire for solitude and goo-goo-ga-ga’d at her. I kissed her nose and zerberted her cheeks. I talked to her in my best baby talk voice. Her whole face lit up as she grinned her gummy grin and made that little hummy squeaky sound she makes when she’s utterly tickled.
We rocked and played, just the two of us, as Maysen took her nap. The only sound in the room was the rythmical squeaking and cracking of the rocker, and the sweet, soft voice of my baby girl. Then slowly, quietly, came the slurping, the sucking and smacking of a nursing baby, then the soft swallowing and even softer hum of satisfaction that comes only when her eyes get heavy, when the lashes flutter closed and the eyes roll around uncontrolled. It’s only then that the satisfied baby spits out the nipple with a final hum and sigh as she lets her body collapse into a milk-drunk, drowsy sleep.
And that’s the moment of silent bliss where I feel such joy that a tear actually rolls off of my cheek and onto Avery’s down-covered head. The ultimate bullseye for a kiss.
This is the moment that I would have missed had I not become present. This is the moment that I tried to rush and wish away. Instead, this became a precious moment that I hope to never forget, a moment for which I am throroughly, humbly grateful, a moment of grace in which I actually consider the power of providence.