Faith

As any parent would likely attest, perhaps the worst feeling in the world is when your child is hurting and you can't just make it better. We had one of those times today. It started at 2:00 in the morning when my daughter woke up vomiting. Though she had been a little fussy at dinner time, it wasn't anything unusual and so there was no indication ahead of time that she was sick. But the poor thing couldn't stop throwing up and couldn't keep water down, so by 4:00 we were getting dressed to head to the Emergency Room. We spent the better part of the day there - finally coming home 12 hours after the whole ordeal began. And I'm sitting here in tears thinking about it.

As we suspected, the culprit was a stomach virus. Since she couldn't keep fluids down, they had to put an IV in her arm to keep her hydrated. It was so difficult holding her down while the nurse put in the IV. But what has me in tears isn't that they had to stick my baby with needles or that she felt miserable for a while - the virus seems to have already run it's course and once we got home you would never have known she was so sick a short while before.

What has me crying is remembering how she behaved when they were putting in the IV. She was sick. She was tired. She was scared. She was being stuck with something sharp and she couldn't move to try and pull away. But in all of it, she let out one little whimper. The entire time, she kept looking in my eyes and listening to my voice as I told her that it wasn't going to last and she would soon feel better. Her complete and utter faith in me to look after her, her belief in my words that everything would be all right and she would soon feel better, was strong enough to quell whatever impulses she may have had to pull away.

Her reliance on my husband and me is not some new revelation. That I am the most important person in her world is not a new concept. But this was one of those times when the full weight of what that means hit me like a freight train - and I am humbled.