What a aingle mother has to go through
It was a cool night. The nature outside, was a loud of a large motorbike revving just under my windowsill. I couldn’t sleep. I got up, wandered to the fridge and grabbed a small bottle of milk, the last of the milk. I had plenty of powdered, she wasn’t awake so I drank the ready made milk and cleaned the bottle. I boiled up some water and added some soap. I dipped the sponge into the water carefully washing the small bottle. I took it out of the water, poured the water out and rinsed the basin. I grabbed a tea towel and dried the tiny object. The doctor gave it to me when I held her first in my hands. She was so small, so small.
I walked slowly up the stairs, careful not to place my foot on the one piece of wood that might shatter the quietness. It strolled over to her cradle and looked down at her, mine. She had little black strands of hair, small pink fingers, a cute little button nose. Before I had her all babies seemed the same, they cried, ate and slept. But now I see, she is so unique, she smiled when I hold her, when I tiddle her miniscule feet and when she cries it hurts. It is like I am connected to her.
She woke, her cry pierced the air. But I was there. I rocked her in my arms and I walked back down to the kitchen. I placed her in rock-a-cot and turned on the radio, place a tape in and played it. She always giggled when I played it. She loved this song, Fields of gold. I boiled the water and added the powder to it. I made sure it was as she liked it, testing it on my arm, Perfect.
She lay back in my arms, she shuffled to get comfortable, squirmed to test her place then settled. I placed the bottle to her little lips and she drank. She is still too young to hold it herself, 15 weeks. She gazed drowsily up at me. Her eyelids were heavy, they closed. It took the bottle away and they flew open again. I put it back and she suckled more. The bottle was finished.
I placed a towel on my shoulder and held her on my chest, head in my hand, resting on my shoulder. I rocked gently, patting her back. When she was ok and dozing off again I laid her in one arm, turned off the music. Walked for the second time up the stairs and placed her carefully it her cot. I pulled a chair up watched as she shuffled to get comfortable I placed her teddy near by. I sang ‘Summertime’ to her and waited till she was fully asleep. I wandered back to my empty bed.