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A mother’s love

Our son is sick. It’s not the first time he’s been sick, but it’s certainly the worst. He got a stomach bug of some sort so he’s alternating between sleeping, throwing cheerios, drinking water, fighting his formula bottle, fighting food and all around just trying to figure out what is going on. Despite all of this, my loving wife Elizabeth has also got a bit of a cold so it’s not much fun for her either.

Tonight we were trying to put him down after having spent a long day of ensuring he was hydrated, and he just wasn’t having it. He fussed, and despite my best efforts, had little desire to let me rock him to sleep. In came his mother wiping her nose fighting her cold. She scooped him up from the crib with his tears of unhappiness and confusion running down his rosy red cheeks. She quietly walked him to the rocker, and rocked him while singing to him.

In just a couple of short minutes, our son was sucking his thumb fast asleep.

There are no doubt two parents, and my son knows both of his. His first words were Dada, he lights up like a Christmas tree when I walk in the room, and he’s all too happy to see me in the morning. That said, there is no replacing a mother’s love. That isn’t to say that a father’s love isn’t adequate, just that it isn’t a mother’s love. If there is anything I’ve learned since becoming a father, its there is no replication for a mother’s love. A baby instinctively knows mama, and when they need her, she is always there.

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