My title to this blog sounds strange doesn't it? But it’s true! Since I have had my double mastectomy and the expanders put in, I was always cautious on lifting or holding anything heavy. Then when I had my hematoma, I was really afraid, so I would always bend down to hug the kids or they would stand tall on their beds so I can hug them w/out them pressing on my chest.
Well, lately I have just been craving a GOOD HUG from them. It’s so hard to hug them when they just squish something that isn't so squishy. LOL
However God gave me such a beautiful moment this morning. At 7:20 I called Bella's name from downstairs letting her know it was time to get up for school. I hear a bit of whining and then I hear say "my neck". Instead of rushing to her, I just stayed at the bottom of the stairs and waited for her to walk down. Here she comes, all snuggly in her jammies, her hair in a high funky ponytail, her lips all swollen from the deep sleep she was in and the smell of downy from her blanket just warmed my soul. She said her neck was hurting and when I examined her, I could see the imprints of her blanket on our arms, neck and shoulder. That told me, that she slept super hard.
I put out my arms and she went for it. She hugged me perfectly and she wrapped our legs around my waist and I swooped her off to sit on the couch. I have not felt her wrapped in my arms so perfectly in such a long time. As I was walking to the couch I could feel my "pectoral muscles" tightening with every step I took. I did not care if I had another hematoma at this point. This was something I was not letting go.
I slowly sat in the recliner with my baby in my arms. She rested on my shoulder as I massaged her neck & back. It was the best 5 minutes of snuggling I could have asked for.
At the end of our time, she sat up gave me a big yawn and said "I want to eat". :)
Our time was over. I couldn't believe that it has been 6 months since I actually held my 6 year old. That is way too long. It was so precious to me. As I sat there holding her, I could see this big light. The light is shining so bright at the end of my tunnel I am almost blinded by it. I simply can't wait to put this all behind me and be as normal as I was before Cancer interrupted my life.