Home is Definitely Where My Heart Is

Well, our Baby Brigid is walking. She's not walking all over yet, but she's taking multiple steps in succession, which is the definition of walking. Sometimes she manages 8 or 10 steps at once; sometimes she gets in two or three, but she's upright and moving one foot in front of the other, so we'll take it. At 11 months, she's the latest of the three in terms of when they started, but I suppose if you have someone at every turn who's willing to pick you up and carry you about, walking on your own volition doesn't make a whole lot of sense. She seems very proud of her accomplishment, too. She just beams when she walks to you from wherever she's started. If she drops to the floor, she just crawls to you the rest of the way, equally happy with herself.

This last weekend marked the first time I was away from BB for any length of time, certainly overnight, as I was at a scrapbooking retreat. I was four days away from her, and it wasn't easy on any of us. I was pumping away from home to keep up the boob supply and Daddy was trying to keep her interested in what was on hand at home. My fear is I would be away for too long and she'd forget about me. At the scrapbooking retreat, I'd have moments of sadness being away from her and then someone would say something and I'd perk up and get on with scrapping or socializing with my scrapping friends. But at night, when I'd normally have nursed her before bedtime, I'd be a little sad, and more than a little engorged which would tell me I needed to pump. Meanwhile, Daddy was trying to get the baby to bed without benefit of the giant boob. He succeeded, but mornings were rough, too, because we bring her into bed for a little nursing in the morning, which gives us all a chance to sleep some more.

When I got home late Sunday night, I had to go in and look in on her, see her sleeping there, touch her back and downy head. Made me a little weepy, to be honest. I went upstairs and tucked in Patricia, who sat up talking to me in her sleep, and tucked in Margaret, who didn't stir. When Brigid woke at 4 a.m. I jumped up and ran to her, picking her up and snuggling her immediately. She reacted with such joy, it melted my heart. I brought her into bed with me and had a snuggle and she settled down for a long, long nurse and woke up happy to see me. I wasn't forgotten afterall. It was nice getting away, but even nicer coming home.