Precious Gift

Last night I put Isla down for bed and while Sean played his Xbox online with Hunter, I finally watched the movie “Precious” after wanting to see it for months.  It was a very engaging and powerful movie (it’s easy to see why Mo’Nique won the Oscar for her role) and I definitely never want to see anything like it again.  What an utterly depressing story, even though I realize it technically had a positive ending.  I couldn’t sleep after watching it so I just stayed up and fussed around, cleaned, did some laundry, arranged and re-arranged Isla’s Easter basket – anything to get my mind off of that movie.  Sean came upstairs while I was washing out bottles and asked me how I liked it, and I burst into tears while telling him the storyline and what happens.  I found myself organizing shelves and folding clothes in Isla’s room, even though everything was already in its place – anything to be close to my girl.  I really wanted to go in and scoop her out of her bassinet, snuggling her to me with no possibility of letting go until she’s at least eighteen, but I’ve already learned that trying to sneak my sleeping baby out of bed and into my arms does not yield positive results.  

So this morning I am nursing a cup of cold coffee, sitting at my desk with my sleeping daughter across my lap in the Boppy, unable to put her down and still trying not to think about that movie.  Trying not to think about the horrible things that can happen to kids, make them question their worth and wonder if they are loved or wanted or even tolerated.  My daughter will never, ever feel any of that, not even for a second.  Sure, sometimes her behavior will not be tolerated or her presence necessarily wanted right in a specific moment (hello, teenage years!), but she will always know that she is loved and cherished beyond all possible measure.  I know that keeping her protected from outside harm will not always be easy or even prevented – I can personally confirm that playground equipment and broken arms go together like PB and J – but I will nonetheless work as hard as I am able to make sure her physical, mental and emotional security are intact and valued.   

One of the most amazing things I continually try to wrap my head around as a mother is that when Isla needs soothing, she needs me.  She needs her Mom, and OH MY GOD, that lucky Mom is ME.  Think of how many times we have held someone else’s baby and when that baby became fussy or upset, we were quick to give him or her over to the one person who could seem to calm them – their mother.  You almost feel defeated or indignant in some kind of way, like it was so clichéd that only Mommy could fix the problem.  And you know, that isn’t even the case all of the time with Isla.  Sometimes I am the last one she wants to see and there is nothing like the arms of her Daddy to make her smile again.  But more often than not, I am now the person to whom others are all-too-happy to hand off my daughter when she’s a little anger ball.  To seemingly be the one thing she needs in that moment of baby despair just crushes my soul with love and gratitude.  Of course I know over the years I will not always be that person – not to her, anyway, as she “Oh, pleases” and “whatevers” away from me, but I will make sure that she knows she can find her way back to me for the same comfort and love I am thrilled to be able to give her when she needs it, now and forever.  

[caption id="attachment_151" align="alignnone" width="300" caption="Beyond lucky."][/caption]