I think I'll most likely remember May 2015 as the month that went by far too quickly - I seem to have spent most of it laying in or on my bed, but I guess when you're just a month away from giving birth, that's pretty much to be expected. I somehow even managed to pick up both a throat and a sinus infection during May and then rather unfortunately pass my germs on to my Son, who to his annoyance has spent the week with me, or his Dad, or sometimes both of us, running behind him attempting to wipe his runny nose every five minutes. We've started carrying a roll of toilet tissue with us from room to room around the house and have gone through an absolute abundance of it over these past few weeks.. it's highly likely that we're single-handedly keeping Andrex in business..
It's never nice when people feel unwell and as a parent it's a particularly emotional moment in time when you realize that your child feels poorly. It really pulls at your heart strings and whilst there's comfort to be found in the fact that they want and need you so much more and only Mummy or Daddy will do, it goes without saying that it's particularly difficult to see them so vulnerable and out of character, even though you know that it's something that'll soon pass.
It's been Ethans chesty cough, his little whimpers and his moments of brief distress at not being able to breathe properly particularly at night that have done it for me. I've found myself rushing in to him much faster than I normally would, lifting him up out of his cot and holding him tight to my chest telling him that "It's okay" and that "Mummy's here". I find myself not minding so much when he pulls on my hair - something that he's always found particularly comforting, though I've always found rather painful, particularly the older and stronger he gets. I usually ask him to stop or pull his hand away after a few minutes of having individual strands of my hair ripped out from my scalp, but whilst he's poorly, I let him do it - I take pride in knowing that it's my job as his Mum to comfort him as much as I possibly can whenever he feels vulnerable. Just as my Mum did for me when I was young.
Now that we're at the end of the week he seems to be much better than he was. His little nose is still running and we're still carrying the odd toilet tissue around with us, but it's nice to see the spark in his personality return. Sadly he missed out on playgroup and swimming this week and will next week too, being that it's half term, but it's much kinder to keep the germs at home away from other people rather than to be the one spreading them.
There's just something that automatically kicks in within me when I see my baby unwell. Not only do I become a great deal more lenient with him, I also become that much more protective as a Mother, sort of a like a lioness with her cub. I'll wrap him up in my arms, keep him warm, fed and watered. I'll stay up all night stroking his hair (or letting him pull mine) if he needs me to. I'll let him come in to our bed and give him as much room as he needs. I'll watch over him until I see his strength and character return and then then I'll move aside just a little, just enough for him to pick himself back up and become the independent little man that he's slowly but surely turning into again.
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