Just one of those nights...

Im a crier. Im a big time crier. Just ask the people in my life. I cry, and Im not a fan of hugs (which often makes for awkward moments). I cry because 1) Im a softy, and 2) I often don't know how else to deal with something. I cried every day while K was in the NICU. Literally everyday. Tears of joy, sorrow, and fear. Often several cries a day. Now, I cry less often, but I cry. I cry when I think that my amazing little 25 weeker is going to be a year old in 10 days. I cry because I am so happy that she is sleeping quietly in the next room right now. I cry because we were told she would make it, twice. I cry remembering the times she was blue and unmoving. I cry remembering the first time I held her, the first time she wore clothes, the first time she smiled. I cry because I haven't finished processing it all yet, and Im at a loss how to deal with these heart wrenching memories. I weep bitterly, cursing everything and everyone at all once, about how unfair it was Kahlen came early, and then chastise myself for being so selfish. My daughter, my amazing little girl, is home... is healthy... is thriving! I am so lucky and have so much to be thankful for.... but I cry.

I am making a new blanket for Kahlen. I suppose if I am being honest I am making it for myself too. I am reverse nesting. My daughter is nearly one, and I have decided (sometimes against my better judgement) to start nesting. Odd, but so is life when your kid arrives 15 weeks early. I am on the floor with meters of fleece fabric. Warm, soft, inviting fleece. I am cutting, measuring, cutting again, and swearing. I laugh out loud at my pathetic attempt at domesticity (yet another one), and yet am excited for tomorrow morning when I show Miss K what I made her. I document the fiasco with pictures, hoping that Martha Stewart never stumbles across my blog, and Days of Our Lives plays in the background.

Then, she whimpers. My sleepy little girl whines. Quickly the whine develops and evolves into a cry, and then a wail. I leap up, 'mom to the rescue', and open the door to find her standing in her crib begging "mom mom mom". She desperately reaches for me, and I lift her and embrace her. She inhales deeply, still begging "mom mom mom" and then she lets out a long, sighing, peaceful, breath and melts into my arms. She snuggles her nose into the nook of my neck, and releases the tension of her body, trusting me to support each and every part of her growing body. She breaths deeply, and slowly, and I hum some random unplanned melody. We snuggle in the dark. Me, sitting on the most uncomfortable kitchen chair in the world, unsuccessfully masquerading as a nursery chair; and Kahlen, sleeping peacfully in my loving embrace. I cry. Its okay though, Im already getting a hug from Miss K... and for a change, its not an awkward one.