Ever since my close friend, Sandy, lost her daughter this past summer, life just looks so much different. Her daughter, Haddie, and Isabella were only three weeks apart. I think of her so often. I cry for her so often. In the long, weary days of motherhood I think of her. When my child refuses to nap or go to bed, I think of her. I think how precious our time is. I think how she would give anything for one more day, one more hour, one more trying moment with her daughter.
This past weekend we go a big girl bed for Izzy. We moved her out of her crib at 16months and she has been sleeping on a mattress on her floor montesorri style for the past few months. Considering she hasn’t been in her crib, I didn’t really think it would be that big of a deal getting her a bed. I was so wrong. It was all I could do to just stand in her door way, staring at her, sobbing when she took her first nap in that bed. She didn’t need me. That was probably the hardest part of it all quite honestly. She’s growing up and becoming more independent. Today at nap time she snuggled herself in close to me and took my arm over her body to hold her in a tight hug. I was thinking of all the things I needed to do and quickly reminded myself that they are really not important. Nothing is as important as that moment. Soon she won’t need me at all and my heart will break. It is such a delight watching her grow up and explore and discover, but it is also sad to see my baby fading away.
