Logan had a difficult evening last night. By difficult, I mean, difficult for her, not that she was being difficult. You see, she’s had a cough for 2 weeks and I think now all that gross sludge is starting to drain, and the poor thing does not know how to deal with it. She coughs in the middle of the night and it wakes her, and then she cries out to be comforted. At about 1am, the 4th time or so she cried out after going to bed a 7pm, I brought her to bed with me. I kept her head on the crook of my arm (so she could breathe better) and nursed her to sleep. We fell asleep like that. A couple of hours later, she awoke again (I can’t say that same for my arm though) and cried and cried. We went through our whole repertoire—shushing, nursing, me kissing her forehead, rubbing her chest, and fall asleep until she wakes up again from coughing an hour or 2 later.
Nights like these remind me so much of what it is to be a mother. Don’t get me wrong though—nights like these are HARD, especially because my alarm clock goes off to remind me that I have to drag my butt out of bed to go to work. But, through bleary eyes (and the dark circles under them), I see how special these nights are. When we are awake and alone, while she nurses and plays with my hair. She needs me, and I’m there to comfort her. And really, to me, motherhood has been as simple as that. My child needs me, and I’m there for her.
I hope she feels better soon. It’s no fun being sick :(