Baby is Home



My baby came home this past weekend.

She went on vacation with her dad’s family.

For 24 hours I couldn’t find out if she’d made it to her destination safely. That experience alone shaved off at least a year of my life span.

And even after I managed to find out she was safe, I walked around with a hole in my chest, right where my heart used to be.

Back when I was a childless gal I heard women talk about missing their kiddos. It was like they didn’t even miss them, they mourned them. I remember rolling my eyes and thinking, “Melodramatic much?” But I didn’t understand. And so to those women I mentally made fun of, I’d like to apologize.

And now there’s the separation fall out. She’s more clingy than usual. She cries for me to sleep with her. She’s nervous when I leave the room (I’ll admit, I could also be describing myself on all counts here).

It’s really hard, getting our little household routine back online. Before two weeks apart we were like high speed internet, finely tuned and zipping along. Now we’re more like dial up, with all it’s screeching fingernail sound effects. But we’ll get there. The most important thing is we’re together, getting back into our routine, spending lots of time snuggling and watching movies and her telling me in great detail how much she loves The Lizard of Claws.

Or as the rest of the world refers to it… The Wizard of Oz.






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