“Mommy tears” I call them because there is no other way to describe this rush of wetness to my caruncles as I swell with pride and emotion. Unless you are a mom, you will never know.
Our usual bedtime routine: I cuddle you, change your dirty diaper, play “stinky feet” with you, and put you into fresh pajamas – today a white onesie with a cute elephant on the front. (You look amazingly beautiful in white by the way.)
I then football cradle you across my chest with your head relaxed in my left arm and my right arm between your legs to keep you still and secure. You look so comfortable.
Two rounds of “You Are My Sunshine” as you gaze into my eyes transfixed on the melody. It was always my favorite song growing up that my Mami sang me. My inner emotions swell every time I sing it to you. You will never know how it feels to pass this along to you, along with all the cosquillas Mami used to give me.
After our moment of lullaby cuddles and rocking, it’s time for our nighttime prayers. We always pray for your safety and for you to not have any nightmares. For God to protect you and for Him to send His angels to keep you safe and protected overnight. And we always pray for Daddy to come home safely from work. (Shh…. Don’t tell him, it’s our secret.)
I put on the shusher to help you drown out any background noise and today, as I lay you down on your belly as usual, you flip over. You stare at me in the eyes so innocently and reach for my hand never leaving my gaze and just asking gently for my comfort. I give you my hand and you pull it close; grasp my thumb, and hold my hand against your body.
Mommy tears. All five thousand of them.
Two more rounds of “You are my sunshine” because my heart can’t leave you. But I know you are tired. I whisper “I love you” more times than you will ever know. My tears don’t stop as I walk out the door and immediately turn on my phone to watch you on the monitor.
You fall asleep in less than ten minutes. All I can do is watch you; happy, filled with sadness that you are growing so quickly. But also so much pride that you are my daughter. You are my firstborn. My joy. I am so lucky that you made me a mommy.
Thank you, Gabriela. Thank you.
Thank you for being my daughter.
Happy Mother’s Day to me, indeed.
