Five Years Ago Today…
By this time five years ago, I had delivered my darling daughter. I’m pretty sure I had been wheeled into recovery by this point. Her birth was fast and furious, so once in recovery, I was finally (trying) to settle in and get some sleep. They keep hospital rooms so HOT. I remember being all frustrated because the temperature of the room, combined with my hormones’ desperate attempt to acclimatize in my body, left me sweaty and unable to sleep. Even after my internal thermometer managed to find a middle ground with my surroundings, I was sleepless. Hunger soon took over and I remember cornering some poor nurse at 2am and asking her what food was around that I could eat. She found me a turkey sub. I remember thinking, as I scarfed it down, that is was the most delicious thing I had ever eaten. Something tells me I wouldn’t have found it nearly as yummy under normal circumstances.
Then, even with my tummy satisfied, the rest of me wasn’t. I still couldn’t sleep. I missed my baby. I knew she was asleep in the next room. I knew the nurses would let me know when she was hungry. But I missed her. I remember waiting a while, then sneaking into the nursery adjoining my room, hoping to find her awake. Alas, she was still asleep. I went back to my bed and sleep continued to elude me. I crept back in the nursery. This time I poked her. That’s right. I poked my tired, newborn, I’ve-just-been-born-and-this-is-the-longest-I’m-going-to-sleep-for-a-while-so-you-should-be-enjoying-it baby. She roused and I carried her back to bed with me for a snuggle. We stared at each other for a while, and then, my darling girl did what has come to define my girl to this day. She smiled. Nope - not a gas smile. I know what gas smiles look like. This was a REAL smile, however small and subtle.
I can remember with each child the moment I fell in love with them. With my son, it was the day after he was born. He was carried away from me for a routine exam and I heard him begin to cry in the other room. My heart physically hurt.
With my daughter, it was when she smiled. That wee-hours moment we shared, snuggling.
Now she’s five, and I fear I have another sleepless night ahead of me…yearning for my baby girl.
It’s 12:32 am. Think if I poke her awake she’ll snuggle with me? She probably would, actually.
She’d smile, too. That’s just how she is.
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