Once upon a sleepless night I climbed back into my own bed after breastfeeding my son and snuggling and snoozing with him until he was fast asleep. I was cold, it was winter, and I’d lost all my own body heat between beds. I was lying there thinking I was going to be awake for ages- the worst when baby is finally asleep!! – and I felt a bit sad and a bit lonely. So I turned over and whispered to my hubby to ask him to come and snuggle me and warm me up, and he did, without a moments hesitation. Not groundbreaking, not a huge romantic gesture, I know, but it made me smile, it made me warm and it made me feel loved.
Then it hit me, this is what I do for my son (countless times) every night. I don’t just drag myself across the landing and plug him in to a endless supply of milk whilst counting down the minutes until I can finally sleep again. I do something far more amazing than that, and he must feel such warmth and love. I must try to remember this feeling and feel proud of what I do for him, rather than frustrated by it. One day he won’t need me, but until then, I will be there.
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