It’s 10:45 west coast time,1:45 “my time”. My flight, which should have been taking off in ten minutes, is currently 90 minutes delayed. I’ve been up since 3am with LM who had an on again/off again fever yesterday and puked at 5am this morning. I am exhausted. I have to pee very badly and it’s past pumping time, meaning my boobs hurt. There is no option to leave my sleeping child to relieve myself of bladder or breast discomfort. I have considered asking for help but I don’t want her to wake up and have me not be here for even 2 seconds. I can’t tolerate the thought of her feeling scared or abandoned.
We have been gone for 5 days and I miss LMJ in a physical way and my heart is starting to ache without her. My breathing feels constricted and her picture brings a lump to my throat and tears to my eyes.
And this is parenthood. This is love. This is my uncomfortable, painful, aching and loving devotion to two human lives who are literally born from mine. It is bitter. It is sweet. It is mine and it is lovely. I am so humbled and thankful for the gift of my daughters and the opportunity it brings to become a better version of myself through challenge, hard work, determination and a refusal to give up.
I will continue to devote myself in this way until my final breath and I hope that matters. I hope they feel loved and supported. I hope they grow into their fullest potential, the best version of themselves and that they never, for even one second, look around and wonder where I am. I am right here. I am always going to be right here.