It seems as though everyone has come down with something. Everywhere I turn, a friend or family member or co-worker is ill. Unfortunately, that has not passed over our house. While each of the kids has had a bit of a cold, the little lady has been the sickest. It came as a complete surprise because she’s usually the healthiest. But boy has she been sick. It’s apparently not quite pneumonia but a nasty case of bronchitis and some other respiratory infection so they’re treating it like you would pneumonia with two antibiotics and a breathing treatment.
As a result, she’s cried a lot the past few days. The worst is when she wakes up crying at night. She sounds terribly forelorn and, of course, sick. So the past couple of nights I get up and rock her. Normally if we have a child crying in the middle of the night we won’t pick them up because it makes it worse so we just pat them on the back and tuck them back in. But not so when they’re sick. I get up and rock them back to sleep in the nursery.
It’s been a while since I’ve done this and it’s been precious time. Even at 2 a.m., I have treasured our rocking time. With her arms wrapped around my neck and her head nestled in my neck, I feel like I have a baby again. And I am rapidly recognizing that they’re not babies anymore. So I’ve rocked her long after she’s fallen back to sleep. I’ve held her and prayed over her and thanked God for her. I’ve treasured the moments I have left to rock-a-bye my baby. Because I know, all too soon, that rock-a-bye will turn into bye-bye and I will hold these moments in my memory as precious keepsakes forever.
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