As I lay in bed at night, my thoughts inevitably drift to you. I reflect on the day we shared and the moments I wish I could redo. I think about the things I didn’t do for you, and the times I tried but fell short. The words spoken and those left unuttered echo in my mind, reminding me of the impact they had on you.
I remember the instances when my actions cast a shadow over your bright spirit, causing fleeting glimpses of pain or disappointment to cross your face. I replay the mistakes I made throughout the day, longing for a do-over.
I can still see your little face when I snapped at you for spilling your cereal all over the kitchen floor. You were only trying to help by bringing your dishes to the sink. Instead of reacting with frustration, I could have said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Everyone spills sometimes. Thank you for being so helpful!” I could have handed you the broom, letting you take part in cleaning up. You would have loved that.
Then there was the time you excitedly brought me the “First 100 Trucks” book for the umpteenth time. I waved you off, thinking it was too much effort. But I could have taken a moment to appreciate the joy in your eyes as you pointed out your favorite truck.
I think about how I muttered “ugh” when you refused to eat the fish bites I had prepared and decided to zoom around the kitchen like an airplane. I know you didn’t hear me, but that doesn’t lessen the regret I feel. Instead of getting upset, I could have used the moment to engage you in a fun lesson about airplanes and offered you the Nutri-Grain bar you were craving.
Then there were the times I lost my cool when you pulled my hair, dragging you to your room in frustration. When you looked up at me with tears in your eyes, I should have been the one to apologize. I should have embraced you and acknowledged my mistake, reminding you that adults, too, make errors.
I recall the squabbles between you and your sibling over who could sit in my lap. Instead of pushing you both away in irritation, I could have invited you for a cuddle session, wrapped in a blanket, creating a moment of closeness instead of distancing us.
I often think about the future, when there will come a time when you won’t fit in my lap or won’t want to sit there at all. The thought of you growing up, being so far away one day, fills me with a bittersweet ache. I realize how much I’ve let small frustrations get in the way of cherishing our time together.
As I think about the love I have for you, it feels overwhelming, like my heart might burst from the fullness of it. In the quiet of the night, when you’re tucked away in your bed, I long for the days when I could hold you close. It’s in those moments of longing that I wish I could tiptoe into your room, lift you into my arms, and press you against my heart, whispering “I’m sorry” softly as you drift in slumber.
But as much as I want to wake you, I resist, not wanting to disturb your peaceful dreams the way my thoughts have disrupted mine. Instead, I lay my head down, hoping for better thoughts to guide me into sleep tomorrow.
For more insights into parenting and the emotions we navigate, check out one of our other blog posts here. And if you’re considering home insemination, you can find reliable tools, like those offered at Make A Mom. For comprehensive information on infertility and related topics, visit Womens Health.
In summary, parenting often leads to moments of reflection filled with love, regret, and desire for better connections. It’s essential to embrace those feelings, learn from them, and strive to create lasting memories with our children.
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