Monday, October 29, 2012
31 Days of "Things I Have Learned from my Children"... The gift of touch
They came in and told me I had to feed him, his blood sugar was way too low, the explained all the reasons it could be, but right now, I just had to get him to nurse.
It was the middle of the night and my little boy was just not having anything to do with it. Just 6 hours old and already not cooperating. My third, I thought for sure I would have this down, but he would not work with me. I Was. So. Tired. They handed him to me and with all the tricks that had worked before, I tried to coax this little boy to nurse. He would not. So I cried and I held him against me. His little soft sweet skin against mine and we slept for a while. The nurses returned, and asked if I had gotten him to eat. "Maybe a little," I exaggerated. He had latched on but he was too tired and so was I. Exhausted from labor and love. They checked his blood sugar and he was fine, perfectly fine, as if he had fed. He had not fed at all, but he needed his mommy to hold him, to touch him.
Children who do not have the loving touch of a mother, do not thrive. And this child of mine was not thriving, he needed me, in the night, to just hold him.
We were created to need people, to need to be held and touched.
Last night as we rocked to sleep she kept reaching up and bringing my cheek to hers. To have our cheeks together, skin on skin, touching. Every time I thought she was asleep I would pick up my head and she would immediately startle and reach her little hand up, grab my face and bring it by hers, again, cheek to cheek and she would rest, until finally she slept.
I am not a "touch" person, I am not a person who greets with a big hug or any hug at all. I am a person who needs personal space. But through these little people who thrive off the touch of their mom I have learned what a precious gift it is.
And so much to be thankful for...
61. Little hugs and kisses and cheeks to hold against mine; 62. The promise of a rainbow
63. Piles of leaves that smell like fall; 64. laughter as children jump in; 65. stories read with hot chocolate after a day of play; 65. Holding hands as we walk slowly the speed of little two year old legs and talk about stories she has created about rivers and not being scared. 67. Full moons that light the sky on an early morning run. 68. yarn waiting for projects to be started. 69. my whole family together after being apart for a few days. 70. Plans made to visit friends and family.