That terrifying moment of suspense, excitement, worry…all bundled up into one intense feeling.
It sounds harsh…but it is OH SO TRUE! My angel is just that…sweet, perfect, innocent and absolutely the light of my life.
BUT…every momma needs a break from feeding, cleaning, playing, carrying, rocking, singing, tickling, feeding, changing, …um thinking!!!
Now that I’m a momma I swear I have an entirely new emotion that only momma’s (and daddy’s) get. There’s this little moment of terrifying suspense as you’re holding a tiny human with a head heavier than all of their weight combined.
You glance (awkwardly) over your shoulder to try and squeeze a peak of tiny eyes tightly closed. You add that to the weight of that small head and the long, deep breathes and you determine…a knocked out baby is in hand.
This is exciting news (per the above must-have break). BUT…back to that terrifying moment of suspense:
Before you can begin your moment of blankly staring at the TV or getting lost in you’re favorite book, you must first rid yourself of the adorable hunk of baby still in your arms. There is still the dark possibility that when you attempt to free yourself of roughly 20 pounds, your moment of ‘me-time’ could be shattered.
You walk inhumanly slow as you tiptoe and press each foot slightly to the creepily-creaking floor beneath you.
You then eerily guide the (also, of course, very creaky door) to the side and peer into the shaded nursery where a mysterious pink (or blue…etc) glow sweeps across the room.
The crib is within reach as you work to keep that sleeping beauty…sleeping while maneuvering the strange position the tiny person has somehow drifted off into dreamland in.
Your wrists and fingers ache as they take the brunt of that 20 pounds of “knocked out” weight. Your back screams as you arch over the crib carefully to rid yourself of that beautiful little being. (Only to miss her in your arms shortly).
Then…there’s that moment I was talking about earlier. That terrifying moment of suspense, excitement, worry…all bundled up into one intense feeling. When your hands lose contact with that teeny body…will you be granted your wish of momma time?
Or, as it has happened before, will the closing of that creaking door be followed quickly by a screech born from a tiny voice that instantly causes your heart to race as your moment of freedom is snatched from you?
To be continued…