© Andrés Nieto Porras, via WikiCommons

Do you remember when your children were tiny?

I mean really small …

Wrinkly little newborns with soft hair, surrounded by that divine smell of utter purity and perfection.

I’m smiling just thinking about it. And I’m remembering how, night after night, in my hormonal haze I would happily eject myself calmly from a deep sleep in response to the merest whimper or staggered breath.

The umbilical cord had been cut, but the connection remained. Like an invisible thread weaving its magical path from their hearts to mine.

I know not every parent feels this, but for me, the 3am feed was a time of deep joy and satisfaction. Precious hours in sleepy hamony with my babies while the rest of the world receded in its slumbering peace. We were content in our bubble, my babies and I.

It was bliss.

As my children grew the hormones rebalanced, and on some nights a mild irritation will creep in when my sleep is disturbed. I never really mind getting up – responding to their needs is part of the job description, and I’m a diligent worker most of the time.

But still. Some nights it’s tough.

Yet when my children are ill it’s like something magical happens. My body, my brain … my instincts … are somehow transported back to those early weeks. And I once again find myself with a finely tuned radar that detects the merest hint of distress. And the energy to ping awake in response.

The magic came back in the early hours of this morning as I padded down the landing to see to my feverish son. The 20 minute pee-stop, nappy change, temperature check and medicine-dosing left me wide awake. But as I lay back down in bed a wave of deep satisfaction washed over me.

I was transported back 4 years to when he was tiny. The feelings are raw, and honest. They run deep.

These moments are like little reminders of the past. And I’m grateful for them. They help me to see that my role as a mother will never change, even as my children grow into happy, independent adults.

When they need me, I will be there.

And when they don’t, I will sleep easy.

Because the magic never dies.