C is such an easy child that our lives have pretty much gone on the way they always have. I went back to work when she was 3 months old, and she loved daycare so the transition was easy. My employers value and need me so they let me juggle my schedule to fit my new responsibilities. Our lives fell into such an easy rhythm that sometimes M and I look at each other, amazed that we have a baby.
Today we had a plan. M was going to come up to the town where I work and C goes to daycare. We were going to have dinner and he was going to take her home. I was going to take his car and go sit shiva with the mourning family. I am a planner and I stick to my plan.
But tonight we walked into the daycare and C was sitting quietly on the couch leaning against K, the daycare provider. She looked so forlorn sitting there that I instantly knew she wasn’t feeling well. K quickly confirmed it. Sitting next to her like this was the only way C would stop moaning she said. She didn’t want to play and she didn’t want to be held by J, the assistant. I sat next to K and transfered C to my lap. She felt hot and sad. She leaned into me and sighed and I knew that the only place I was going was home, to sit with my small child, who needed me more than anyone else.
It’s no longer life as usual. It’s never going to be just about me and my desires again. It’s always going to be about this little girl and her eventual (hopefully) sibblings. And that’s a good thing.