By Annie Henriksen 
It’s late, the house is quite. I can hear the heavy slow breathing of my husband next to me in bed. The day has ended, the sun has set on another busy day.
I can’t sleep, my body is exhausted but events of the day flood my mind. The dance costume is clean and ready for the morning, we have a doctor appointment at noon, and I can’t forget to pick up more dog food. I roll over in effort to calm my racing brain, and that is when it hits me. I see her picture on my night stand. Her smiling face and that sparkle in her eyes are staring back at me.
I miss her!
I know she is just down the hall, sleeping peacefully in her toddler bed. Her little toes poking out from her blanket. Her eyes fluttering as she dreams.
I know that she is safe. I just miss her, I want to hold her. Yes, like any mom there are moments throughout the day that I want to pull out my hair and would cut off my left leg to be able to use the restroom alone. However, when all is said and done I love spending time with my daughter.
I miss those night feedings, where the house was quite and dark. It was just me and her rocking in her room. The moments where there isn’t any distractions or noise; just me and her staring into each other’s eyes. Enjoying our quiet time together.
I love those moments throughout the day now when she wraps those little arms around my neck so tight, her cheek on mine. The moments when she says those magic words “mama.”
Ok, maybe I am one of those parents who are too attached to their kids. I mean she is just down the hall sleeping and I miss her. Who in their right mind is like that?
Maybe it’s because I was so amazed that we both survived that pregnancy. I never take one day with her for granted. The moment she was born safe, healthy, and breathing was the best day of my life. All those sleepless night of worrying were over. We did it we survived it together. All of the scary moments were over; I was able to breathe again. I had been holding my breath for the last nine months, praying that she as OK.
Maybe it’s because when she was born we were hundreds of miles away from our family and a support system. My husband dedicated to his new job, it was often just me and her at home. We were each others’ support system, each others everything. We spent countless hours just the two of us. We took on many adventures together, just the two of us. We learned together. We have this unbreakable bond now.
Maybe it’s because of our past… maybe it’s our future. Maybe it’s because I want to be there for my daughter. I know she will have a rough road ahead of her; I have been down that road myself. She will encounter mean girls at school, the overwhelming feeling of not being comfortable with her body during the teen years, the first heart break she will have over her first relationship. I want to be there for her. I want the kind of relationship, the closeness, where she feels comfortable to come to me.
Maybe I just want to hold her in the middle of the night, to protect her from the future. Protect her from the unknown.
I lay here, smiling to myself. Realizing how lucky I am, how blessed I am. Yes, I am a crazy mom… I miss my child who is just down the hall. However, I have a dreamed of that little creature being my best friend all my life.
I close my eyes, thankful that I get to spend one more day with her.
Photo credit: Gary Simmons via Visual Hunt / CC BY-NC-SA
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