I hear the sucking of a thumb.
A feverish head nestles into the crook of my arm.
The silky blanket moves and the thumb sucking stops.
A chubby hand reaches up to caress my cheek…and then pinch my nose.
The sweet voice, which lets me know my morning is beginning far too soon, whispers, “Hi, my momma. I sees you. Elmo? I sees Elmo?”
This morning, she was supposed to be waking up at her Nana and Scooter’s house. She had a glorious weekend of spoiling and cuddling planned with my parents.
This morning, my plans had included a wonderful weekend, just me and my husband. The weekend was mapped out, movie schedules and restaurants planned.
But that was before the virus – and the virus had other ideas.
The virus made her skin burn, her joints ache, and her eyes become glassy.
It made her cry, cling to her mommy, and refuse all food.
The same virus successfully upended my date weekend. It postponed seeing The Hobbit, Hunger Games: Catching Fire and possibly Frozen. It delayed a delicious, gluten-free burger at Red Robin (and I had been looking forward to that burger all week!). It canceled any and all alone time with my husband – something we have not had in at least 3 months.
And I was greatly disappointed.
But, that’s the sacrifice of motherhood.
You give up sleeping in, late nights, date nights, and time alone with your husband.
You give up girls’ days, shopping trips, and the little extras you thought you needed.
You give up your life. All for that little life in the next room.
And it’s ok.
Because now, your heart is in the other room.
And, it is wherever her little body goes.
Your heart is in every smile, every frown, every laugh, and every tear.
It is in the aches and cuddles and excessive viewings of Elmo.
Today, my weekend is “ruined” and my daughter is sick.
I’ve had little to no sleep, but there’s no time for a nap.
Because my time is no longer my own,
But then again, neither is my heart.
That is the sacrifice of motherhood.
And, I wouldn’t have it any other way.