Archive for November 29th, 2005
In Conversation
I had taken Evie up to the spare room adjacent to the nursery because she was crying like crazy and I wanted to give J some quiet. Fortunately, the day hadn’t been as difficult as I’d imagined but J had still spent much of it with Evie crying in the background so that now, for the last feed before bed, with Evie crying again, we were upstairs, alone.
Our conversation was simple enough but has given me food for thought all day.
“Hey, Evie, Shhh, it’s alright,” I whispered, pulling the bottle away as she began to cry again. Checking the side I could see she’d eaten no more than 10 millilitres. She was supposed to have nearer 120. “Come now.” I lifting her up a little in the hope that the change in angle might clear her nasal passages.
Her only response was pitiful sigh. She looked miserable, chest heaving to regain her breath after her little drink.
“Shall we try a little more?”
Another sigh, this time accompanied by a mournful hiccup.
I took that as agreement, tilting her back a little, but immediately she began to cry again.
“Not ready yet?”
Not even a hiccup this time, just a resigned sigh, as if shrugging the weight of the World from one shoulder to the other.
It was horrible. I didn’t want to make her cry, but neither could I let her go hungry, so I began to lower her down into an eating position again. And again she began to sob. So I began, as one does, to sing. Now perhaps it was the shock of my tunelessness on top of her other burdens that caused it but as I started singing, Evie stopped crying and looked up into my eyes, mouth still downturned, her gaze still weary but perhaps just a little more comforted.
So I sang and sang and eventually she drank her 120 millilitres and it was beautiful, just her and I, alone without distraction, working together to get through the meal. I realised as I sat there that I had never once spent any time with just one of my daughters. Even if I am holding and playing with or talking to one, I will switch my attention away occassionally to smile at or otherwise entertain her sisters. Not to mention that there is generally J there plus a Nanna or other visitor. J once took Scarlett shopping while I stayed at home with Evie and Jemima but that wasn’t the same. Up there in the quiet of the bedroom, there was nothing and no one to distract us.
Sitting alone with Evie like that was a revelation. I shouldn’t be waiting until my children are poorly to give them my full attention.