There was a poem I read as a new Mom that brought tears to my eyes every time. It made me grateful for the time I had at home with my baby, while he was a baby,  even during those long late night feedings. The poem went a something like this

“Cleaning and scrubbing can wait ’til tomorrow For babies grow up we’ve learned to our sorrow, So quiet down cobwebs and dust go to sleep I’m rocking my baby, and babies don’t keep.”

This poem came to my mind again today as I was holding Baby who had tripped and bit her lip and was in need of a Momma’s comfort. As I sat holding her on my lap, rubbing her back and telling her she was OK, I thought to myself how grateful I am for this moment. It is in moments such as this when everything stops and you get a chance to revel in an event that you inevitably one day will not have. 

Your baby will grow up, your baby will still need you, but not in the same hands on way. It struck me today as I comforted Baby how that is true all the more in this world of foster care. There will come a day when Baby doesn’t need me the way she needed me today. I hope and pray that is due to the fact that bio Mom has taken care of herself and provided a safe home for Baby to go to. 

Regardless, eventually the need level will change. So for now, I will gladly give hugs in responses to owies and kiss away tears, and hold those little hands with every chance I get. 

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