If you love somebody, let them go…?

Dear Freya 

I hadn’t realised just how much I love sharing my life with you until just now. I have a pretty bad chest infection, and I’ve been told to rest as much as possible, and that if I haven’t improved in the next couple of days I may have to be admitted to hospital. So to avoid the latter, I have pretty much been holed up in my bed since 7pm on Monday evening (it’s now Wednesday).

I started to miss you yesterday. Miss your smell, and your beautiful eyes, and your constant babble and chatter. Jeez, I’ve even begun to miss The Little Mermaid! Lying here I feel bereft of the things that I usually take for granted, of the things that I often find tiresome if I’m honest. 

A moment ago you quietly whispered “mama” from your cot. You didn’t need to cry or shout because you know that I am always there for you, and I’ll come when you call me. Your daddy came to get you, and you popped into my room for a minute before he took you down for some lunch. And in the seconds after you left, the tears came spilling out of my face like big fat raindrops. 

Yes, I guess I’m feeling a bit sorry for myself being under the weather and all. But it’s more than that. When you softly called “mama” I was catapulted into a future where you awake in someone else’s care, calling my name into a space where it will not be heard, not by me. And it made me wonder how on Earth I am going to be able to part from you in 6 months’ time when I am due to return to work and pick up where I left off two years before. Two years. It’s a long time to get used to being around somebody, and I must say that I never considered how I would feel at the end of it all when I extended my leave. 

Right now I can’t even think about what I am going to do, so I swat those thoughts away like a pesky fly and try to use the strength I have to will myself back to health so I can propel myself back into our daily, humdrum routine. To think that last week this Groundhog Day kind of life was becoming wearing! That I felt hard done to for not being able to escape it sometimes! And here I am, escaping all of the things that are part of being a wife and mother, and it’s killing me that there’s a load of washing to go on, no food in the fridge, and that the 58,000th viewing of The Little Mermaid is taking place downstairs without me. 

I can honestly say that I have never felt the wrench of an impending return to work like I do now. After two periods of maternity leave, I went back without question to a career that I had not allowed myself to miss, but had been looking forward to returning to by the end of a year. But things with you have been different. Perhaps because you are most definitely my last. Maybe because I am older now, wiser. Possibly because what we went through together last year created a bond that goes beyond emotion; like chemistry. Maybe just because you are like sunshine on a cloudy day. 

So I will rest. I’ll ask for help and accept it with gratitude and grace. I’ll not let this develop into anything nastier than it already is, because I cannot be removed from you. These last couple of days have given me a tiny taste of life ‘without’ you, and a sense of urgency over how we make the next 6-months worth the pain I know I will feel at the end of it. 

I was always so level headed about childcare before you. Now I cannot picture myself dropping you at someone else’s door. What have you done to me, sweet, funny, determined little Freya? I am undone.