Monday, April 21, 2008

Bellies in the night

She padded down the hallway, the obstacles of the demolition and pending construction stacked tight against the wall, her body hugged the other, shoulder leaning in to guide her. I was on my way back from the downstairs bathroom as I swept her in my arms and into our bed.

Thick waves of cool air billowed behind the plaid curtains, puffs of night kissing our skin. Her body melted into mine as I lowered us into bed. The skin of our bellies touched, the taut skin of mine barely moving as the swell of her sweet little pot belly pressed against me. Her skin was hot, soberingly so. I put my lips to the crown of her head and was startled by the burn.

Her hands moved over my body, seeking out my skin, fingers tracing my arms, shoulders and neck. She pressed her cheek against mine, "Mommy. My mommy." We stayed like that for an hour, hot and cool skin, suffering and calming. Sean leaned in tousling her hair and murmuring in her ear. She never slept and in fact asked to return to her own bed. Sean carried her away.

This morning the fever still burned and a listlessness was upon her that broke my heart. She was my pouch baby, wanting only to cling and press skin. And so I kept her all day, by my side and on my chest, breaking only to allow her to reach for Sean. Tomorrow we'll go to the doctor. My hope is that we can nurse her back to Avery before her sister arrives.

I suppose this is a primer for three, for having two arms and three girls, one lap and three stories. All that seems to matter right now is that my baby is hurting and I can't fix it.

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11 comments:

Cheryl said...

I kissed my Anna on the forehead to start a middle-of-the-night nursing session last week and was startled by the burn. It certainly makes it hard to go back to sleep. We mamas are good at worrying and loving, aren't we.

andi said...

Wow. The more posts of yours I read, the more I'm in total awe of your ability to write about something so ordinary and turn it into something beautiful. This was so well described. I hope your sweet girl is in better health soon.

Heather said...

Aw. Hope she's back to herself today.

Angela said...

Oooh poor sweet baby, I pray that she feels better soon. I know how you feel my daughter hasn't been feeling good for the past few weeks, the feelings of helplessness is so hard to bear sometimes.

Chanda (aka Bea) said...

Poor little duffer, I hope she feels better soon. There is nothing more pitiful than a sick child, but it sounds like you have it all under control.



Thanks so much for stopping by my blog- and for the kind words.

Gwen said...

I hope she is all better soon, but that you don't soon lose the little girl who will snuggle in the middle of then night.

Amy Y said...

Oh poor baby... Hope she is better soon!
The two arms and three babies situation is one of the biggest reasons we stopped at two. I was terrified of being outnumbered! I'm not sure what I thought would happen... That and I thought 3 boys would be the death of me. 3 girls seem somehow less daunting to me, so I'm not scared for you at all...

Meredith said...

"Mommy. My mommy."

That is Beautiful.

I hope that she feels better soon. It is so hard when they get sick...

Kat said...

I hope Avery is better by now, Amanda. I hate it when they're sick, my imagination always gets the best of me.

BetteJo said...

Sweet sweet baby, hope she's feeling better.

Lisa said...

I hope your sweet Avery is better. Mama needs a healthy big sister right now....