We healed each other.

Yesterday, our poor little child had to be restrained while she was forced to swallow penicillin for a foot infection. It was hell, for all of us, particularly her. Of course, I worried that we had lost her sweet trust forever. She lay in our arms, sobbing and sobbing. She did not  want that medicine. It tasted so horrible – but we made her have it.

She fell asleep in my arms in the late afternoon. For over three hours, we lay together. She woke every time I moved a hair, and cried some more. The part of me that needs to be doing and busy resisted. The part of me (the pregnant part) that needs to rest and simply be enjoyed every second of lying in the dark with my dear child. I wanted her to heal. All I could do was stay there for her.

When she finally woke properly (at 7pm!), she was her delightful, happy self again. Healed.

She healed me.

I woke this morning heavy-hearted. Stressed. Overwhelmed. I am having a baby in less than two months. My husband is working seven days a week for the next three weeks (at least) and I have to work every moment he is at home. My house is disorganised. My life is cluttered.

I have not done anything to prepare for this baby – materially or emotionally. Baby clothes are all packed up in boxes and bags in the loft. And I have had no time or space to nest. My last three months of being pregnant with Elka were spent nesting, nurturing myself, connecting to my husband and resting. I knew it would be different this time…but at 5am this morning, I was ridden with guilt that I was not doing enough for the baby I’m carrying. I’m not prepared for it at all.

All I knew about today was that I couldn’t stay at home, indoors, wallowing in self-pity. Elka and I hit the town, sat in the sun drinking juice, played on the sea-saw, wandered around Lismore aimlessly, sat in the shade eating a picnic… Her sweet joyous chatter drew me out of myself and my worries. All will be OK, unprepared for newborn and all.

She healed me with her sweetness and sunshine.

Tonight, taking her medicine, she was a trooper. She nestled into me, opened her mouth and swallowed it without complaint.