I pulled my weary body from the couch with the full intention of dragging myself to the bedroom for a much needed night’s rest, but I stopped in my tracks unexpectedly. I was stuck in place as effectively as if my feet had been nailed there. Either way I couldn’t budge. I couldn’t move a muscle. I was transfixed.
It isn’t fair.
That’s what I thought at the time as I stood motionless staring down at my baby girl who had fallen asleep on the floor. I suppose she wasn’t really a baby anymore, but in my eyes she should be. In my heart she was. But this opinion stood in stark contrast to the sight before me that had indeed stopped me dead in my tracks.
I thought it again, unable to think anything else. Well, anything other than the pride and love that swelled up inside me, threatening to spill out in the only way it knew how. Tears.
How?! How? I wondered in shock and awe. How had the tiny baby that had changed my life morphed into the girl at my feet? Her legs stretched the distance of the living room rug, and I couldn’t believe that this giant, long-legged child had once fit comfortably in the bend of my right arm. What happened?!
It isn’t fair!
Her face! Her face had changed; her features had become more defined, less pudgy. The fat rolls had faded, distinguishable knee caps and knuckles had replaced them long ago. But this was different! Her face; she no longer looked even like a little girl anymore. She looked like a big girl, and somewhere in the line of her jaw and the sweep of her lustrous eyelashes I saw a glimmer of the young woman she would become.
It isn’t fair, my heart lamented.
I recalled long nights nursing every two hours, when gas drops were my go-to thing. I rembered her excitement at the first big toy we bought, a Weeble Wobble treehouse, and how she would dance clumsily to the music it played on two short, chunky legs, her diaper sagging like it always did.
Learning to talk, I was so excited. My baby was so smart, and I eagerly anticipated each new word as they grew into more each day until she was stringing together whole sentences. Then one day she could say anything she wanted. Anything at all.
But now she asks questions. Big, big questions, seeking answers to the curious world around her, and not stopping until she knows more.
It isn’t fair. Not at all.
The other night I had returned home from work, and she sat in her room busy at play with her older sister. I stood in her doorway gazing at her beauty. Oh, how I had missed her so! I stood in anticipation of the running, exuberant embrace she would throw around my neck as I bent down towards her. It’s what we had always done when I returned home from a long day away.
But she just looked up, smiled, waved hello, and back to playing she went. Talk about not fair.
It was like every day my love for her grew, but then again so did she. If I wasn’t present to see it for myself I’m not sure I’d believe the quickness of her transformation. Her legs just kept getting longer. Her mind kept expanding, amazing me daily with the intelligent thoughts that emerged.
I stood motionless in my living room gazing at my big, baby girl, and I finally stepped forward. I had to move, do something. So I scooped her up lovingly and took her to bed. As I laid her down gently her eyelids fluttered open, and musical words floated from her mouth.
“Hold me.” She said.
And I did. I held her, but the thought persisted even stronger in my mind.
It isn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair that someone like me deserved a gift like this. All the mistakes I had made in life, the people I had hurt, the shameful, selfish acts I had committed. It wasn’t even fair that I deserved to love like this, to be loved like this, but yet somehow I was. I was quite certain then that God had given me that baby girl to show me just a portion of His grace, and how much He loved me. And as she grew bigger each day He gently whispered in my ear, “See. Don’t take the love for granted. Hold it tight always, just as I hold you.”
So I held her tight. My big, growing girl, and though it wasn’t fair, as I fell asleep next to her I realized one thing absolutely for sure.
But it was wonderful.
meltedflowers says
Beautiful…I feel the same way….and ‘m ow as my sixth one reaches almost the one year Mark and I k ow I’ll not have another of my own…I really think…… 🙁
Shanii Robinson says
Brought tears to my eyes, I remember these very feeling and now my baby girl is a teenager and I come home and have to get her attention by going to her room. She is happy to see me, but my the times have changed. Hold her close as long as you can savor each moment
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you.