The Last Nap

Topic : Breastfeeding

I don’t remember the last time my daughter fell asleep on me at nap time.

I have a picture of it.
It’s saved on my phone.
January of last year.

But I can’t touch that exact day.
Because I didn’t think I would be the last time.

I was 38 weeks pregnant.
The fireplace repair guy had come to fix our broken stove.
I went into the bedroom, rested down with her on my chest.

I felt her start to soften, her breath slow, her weight release.

My phone rang.

Like a rock concert in the quiet of the room.

I answered it thinking it was the fireplace guy.
It was the car place, letting me know my service was finished.

By the time I was done talking to the woman on the other end, my daughter was up.
Alert.
No chance of her being quiet or calm with me.

And I knew it.
I knew that moment, that day, that she would never nap with me again.

I had missed my “one last time”.

My chest feels heavy even now,
Over 14  months later.

I want that nap.

I want that time.
I want to not feel the regret.

Christmas holidays we would quietly slip away.
I would get a break from the pressures.
I would stay in there with her the whole time, not getting up and sneaking away.
I would lie there, in the quiet, feeling my body relax.

On her First birthday, she nursed the whole of both morning and afternoon naps. My mom, aunt and cousin setting up the house for guests to come while I sat quietly with her. I didn’t dare move so she would stay asleep, rested for the “Big Day” she would have.

After my miscarriage, we would lay back and I felt the weight of the child I did have.
That was such a healing for me.

Her, lying on my chest, arms draped over mine.
My being able to nurse her.
Knowing my body was still needed.
That I could still provide.

Until we didn’t anymore.

I messed up that last time.
That last softening down.

That last weight comforting me.

That’s what I want to feel again.

Emma
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