rockabye baby

She never lets me snuggle her anymore. Always too busy to lay her head down, always wanting to look around and laugh. This week's cold meant that she could not really keep her pacifier in while she fell asleep because it was hard for her to breath. We had already weaned the paci to just naptime and bedtime once she started at her new daycare earlier this month. This seemed like the time to go ahead and stop the paci entirely. 

As a mom, something in my heart was breaking listening to her cry in her bed and being unable to soothe herself. I knew she would fall right asleep if I would just let her have it. There is nothing dangerous or wrong about a pacifier, so why I would keep it away from her? So many moments I stood there by her bedroom door, praying for her to let herself rest and give in to the sleep. 

Saturday might was the fourth night without a pacifier and it was by far the worst. She cried and cried, quieting down for 10 minutes and then back to crying. I finally couldn't take it anymore and busted in the door, picking her up. We sat in the rocker in her nursery and I felt her relax against my body, still shuddering from her crying. I rocked us back and forth, singing the lullabye I would sing for hours every night as a newborn. 

Her breathing started to become more even and I stroked her long hair, remembering the feeling of a little newborn snuggled against my chest. As I felt her long legs curled up in my lap, I could remember her little arms and legs tucking up against my body fitting in just one crook of my arm. Her weight slowly pressed against me as she finally gave into sleep. And I reminded myself that if a little plastic pacifier could not be the one to calm her down, I still could. I am still the momma that rubs her back, strokes her hair, pats her bottom and rocks her to sleep, no matter how big she becomes.

I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always

As long as you're living, my baby you'll be

~"Love You Forever" by Robert N. Munsch