Alas, it is the first of April, the end of a long Easter holiday weekend. It has been filled with the great outdoors, lots of running around trees, and sticks…oh, so many sticks!
I have been feeling a little down of late because I have been working more than usual, including a few Saturdays, so I felt as if I missed heaps with the little guy in just a couple of short weeks. Just the Sunday before, the whole team spent a lovely Sunday afternoon picnicking at the Botanical Gardens on our new king size portable picnic blanket. This past weekend, we enjoyed a late afternoon lunch lakeside at the National Gallery on Saturday, a smorgasbord with friends on Sunday (no, really, a REAL smorgasbord!), and backgarden-under-the-cypress time under the with our former housemates from our third Canberra home (we are on our fifth, hopefully the final!).
I feel it’s been a healing few days and am determined to keep going. I’m feeling reconnected to the little guy and to the big guy, although, admittedly that is very much a works-in-progress at the moment. But the little guy, Davo…I was feeling disconnected and left out; I felt he was upset with me for not being around as much, for only spending a little time in the morning after brekkie and our time at night having dinner, bathing, and nursing before sleep took over. And the guilt, the omnipresent guilt, but the attitude that the ‘perfect mother’ doesn’t exist, but the “perfect for Davo” or even the “good enough” mother for him does, and that woman is me, well, that’s easy to say and harder to feel, but there, too, I’m intent on getting there.
Tonight, after his dad passed him to me, sitting in the rocker, white noise machine humming, he nursed as he did the night before, looking up at me. As I spoke to him and told him I loved him, he broke his latch, clambered up and gave me the sweetest kisses a mum could ever have. Pure, unconditional love.
As he reattached himself, I held him as I have, especially in the last seven weeks, close to my heart, his little hands resting on my breast, his eyes closed, peacefully suckling. I felt even more connected, my love for him reaching new depths, as I felt he was ‘telling’ me, ‘I love you, too, Mummy.”
As he drifted to sleep and tears slipped down my cheeks, I read a quote posted by one of my fellow Earth Goddesses:
Walking, I am listening to a deeper way. Suddenly all my ancestors are behind me. Be still, they say. Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands. ~Linda Hogan
That describes perfectly what I felt…literally the love of thousands in that one moment of toddler glory, mouth agape with love, to kiss and hug Mummy. It is my hope that one day, he too, will feel the love of all who have come before him, but especially the love of his mum and dad.