Pick Me Up

For 18 months, I’ve been carrying my baby. Full-time for the first nine and now sharing that with H.

There is responsibility in carrying someone. The first and most important thing to remember is to make sure you’re strong enough to do it. I’ve worked, still working very hard to be strong to hold and care for my baby with the best, most reliable, most care-giving version of myself.

Days like today remind me, it is sometimes a symbiotic relationship. As I tried to wipe my tears and pick up K just as he awoke, it went away. Just for that moment, the arrow of hurt from had been distanced so I could pick up my baby boy, rock him calmly so he is fully awake and lay him on his play mat in the living room.

As soon as he sat up, the tears rolled down again and I felt broken. I told him, in the midst of my sobbing that I was sad and that sometimes, sad things happen without a solution that pleases both sides. He was amused, and smiled a big smile, which soon turned into a giggle.

That smile, that giggle : it fixes everything. At least temporarily. No, this pain is not going away and sometimes it might try to drown me. But as long as my sweet baby boy and his giggle keeps it at bay, I will be ok.

Turns out, he picks me up too!

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