I woke up feeling like death this morning. I barely got a wink of sleep last night and once I fell asleep, I couldn’t get up. There was rain on the ground and cars this morning, which probably attributed to me not hearing any of those alarms.
I was up all night, with that maternal watchful eye. I was worried to tears. Daniel is pretty sick.
I mean, he literally only has strep throat, but he’s just suffering with the fever and chills and all.
He looks so miserable and I feel terrible that I can’t ease his pain.
Sidenote: When Daniel was only 3 months old, I had to go away for a few days for my job. One of my friends who doesn’t have kids, but aspires to be a mother, asked me what was the hardest part of parenting. I took my time elaborating my response. I stated to my friend that the hardest part wasn’t the late nights with cluster feeding, or the chapped nipples, or the incessant crying (he didn’t really cry incessantly) or any of that stuff, its when something is wrong or bothering him and I can’t fix it or ease his pain. As a rookie first time parent, I think that was a pretty profound answer. It still holds true to this day.
It truly hurts me to see him sick or hurting. I am an empath by nature. Swish that around in a jar full of maternal instinct and I become a whole monster for my kid.
I laid there with him up under me with absolutely no concern with his contagion. I was more concerned with him and the sound of his teeth chattering together from his chills. He was miserable and I just prayed that my love would cure him.
This rough night pales in comparison to what some other parents have endured with their children, I recognize that. But this night was not without it’s challenges.
I am glad we made it though.
*more to come*