I Love You Too Much

I was sitting in Cosette's dark room last night. Juliette was asleep, and Cosette was eating her last meal before bed. I was holding her in my arms; the room was dark except for the soft glow of the nightlight. Everything was quiet except for the "ocean waves" playing on the white noise machine in Cosette's crib. I gently rocked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, and listened to the sounds of Cosette eating: her swallowing, the soft sounds of her breath, and an occasional soft "coo".

Could life be any better?

Then I was struck with a pang of regret, because I really love these times with Cosette- but I barely remember Juliette at this age. Did I appreciate her as a baby? I really don't think so. I was so tired, frustrated and confused all the time and I just kept looking forward to when things might get easier. Now I realize that things probably don't get easier- they just become challenging in a different way. Just a few weeks ago I was regretting that she was becoming so independent, and I didn't get much quality cuddle time with her. So now that she wants to cuddle all the time, I should look at it as a blessing, right? She's clinging because she needs me. When I'm tucking Juliette in at night and she tells me "Momma I love you too much" I laugh and correct her: "I love you so much- not too much. Never too much, Juliette!" But maybe she is right- just a little bit. Sometimes I feel that her love for me is so big that it burdens me with an overwhelming responsibility, to live up to that love. Can I do it? Do I have what it takes? All I know is this: I must be doing something right to deserve such love and trust from this beautiful, innocent, wonderous miracle- my daughter.