It's about the pillow.

C and The Girl spend most of their time together in the evenings. The Girl is on our schedule, and for now it is what works for us. From the beginning, C has been the one that gives The Girl her bedtime bottle and put her in her crib. Occasionally the little green eyed monster in me would rise up, but for the most part I LOVE that they have that time together. If I am honest with myself (and you guys), part of the reason why I love it is because it gives me free time to do whatever I want or what needs to be done, and partly because I treasure the bond that they have formed; and truly, nothing can make you fall in love with your spouse more than to watch them cuddle up with your child.
The past few nights, The Girl has been off even our schedule. We've caved and let her sleep in our bed a few times. (For the record, this started when we went away in May and there was no where else to put her but in bed with me!) Yesterday morning and this morning she has not really woken up, but has been having restless sleep. I went in yesterday and gave her a bottle and she went right back out. Then around noon she started again and I figured she was ready to get up. I went in and hugged her and stuff and she just wound up cuddling up and went back to sleep. I stayed in there for a few minutes even though I wanted to get back to a project that I was working on, but I figured in the future these moments will be few and far between so I wanted to enjoy the 'right now' of it.
This morning was more of the same. About the time that C left for work, she settled down and was asleep. So I took my coffee into the office to catch up on what is happening in life via the computer. About the time I got very caught up in an highly interesting blog, she started fussing again. I already had a bottle ready from earlier, so I went in and we got cuddled up. The Girl still seemed sleepy, yet she would open her eyes occasionally, so I wasn't sure if this was 'up' or not. When she finished her bottle, she rolled right into me, so I knew this was not 'up'; I felt her body go limp with sleep in seconds. Again, I decided to cherish the moment and stayed with her for a few extra minutes.
As I was laying there, emotions started to flood me. The awe that she is indeed flesh of my flesh. Quite honestly, that right there never ceases to amaze me. Sometimes it even takes my breath away. I'm not saying that this is a dream come true, we all know how I felt about not being a parent before, but since she is here, she is a dream and I do cherish her and love her.
Of course I thought of C and how our lives and our life together has changed ran through my head. For the better? I don't know yet; but definitely not for the worse.
Then of course I thought of my mom. I wondered how she would feel having her only daughter have this miracle and here we are 1600 miles apart. I imagined the phone calls and visits. I envisioned that she would even move here and then realized the trouble that would stir up with my brother. Why would she move 1600 miles away from 2 grandkids just to be closer to another. The answer? Simply because of me. And the relationship that she and I shared prior to her death. This may be morbid to some, and yet others will fully understand. The pillow that I sleep with every night was my moms. You have to understand though, it seems that the women in my family have 'a thing' for 'their' pillow. I have always tried to bring mine when I travel, if I can't stuff it in my suitcase, I have been known to carry it on the plane with me. (Of course I bring an extra pillow case or two b/c of all the unknowns that it will come in contact with.) I have an aunt that will tell you she drives everywhere so that she can have her 'stuff' and 'pillow' where ever she goes. My mom ALWAYS took her pillow with her when she travelled. We just have 'a thing' for our own particular pillow. I traded pillows when my mom died. I took hers. I HAD TO HAVE it. I can't explain it. I'm not even going to try. And yes, it is the pillow that her head was on when she died. (I know I haven't blogged that story, but its coming.) There is something about her pillow that sometimes just gets me through the night. So back to this morning, The Girl is snuggled up to me and I'm having these overwhelming thoughts and emotions and I look down and she and I are both on moms pillow. As I eased myself away from her, she kept cuddling more into me (which just makes it harder to leave both physically and emotionally), I adjusted moms pillow under her to keep her snuggled.
[now is when we all go running for the box of tissues.]
Then hit me, even though she isn't physically with us, she is with us. In everything that I do, in who I am, in what I believe, in the simple things, in the decor of my home, in the songs that I sing. I keep my flour in the freezer because she did. Don't ask me why, I don't know the why behind it. It is because of her influence on me that I enjoy old movies and musicals. My mom is the reason that I make the best cheesecake (or so I've been told anyway. I wouldn't know b/c I don't like cheesecake.) Even beyond the grave she can cuddle her miracle granddaughter. Her touch reaches beyond mortality.
There is a lamp that we keep in The Girls room. It was given to me by my mom. It is one of those lamps that has a nightlight in the base. The base of this lamp is modeled after a cottage in a Thomas Kinkade painting. She had an identical one that now shines brightly in the night at her sister's house. Every night my mom would say: Is Thomas on? 'Thomas' is the lamp. Every night, we go into The Girl's room, and say Thomas is on. One of these days, I'm waiting for The Girl to ask why we say that and I can't wait to tell her all about her Grandma Linda.