Tonight, my baby is sick. He has a fever and is having a restless night. I can look at this two ways:
1. He's interfering with my "me" time. I'm not going to get good sleep tonight. I'm tired.
2. My baby needs, no, wants me. One day he won't need the comfort of his Momma's warm arms. He won't fit neatly on my chest, with his little arms curled close. One day his little chubby baby legs will turn into long lanky little boy legs. Instead of curling those little legs around my belly, they'll be dangling down by my knees.
His troubles will be bigger than the soft, soothing touch of his mother. His desires will surpass the offerings of what I can give him.
Right now he wants Momma. Momma to hold him. Momma to love him.
And that sounds pretty good to me.