Madeleine and Me

I recently shared with Madeleine one of my very best memories from when she was an infant. I think of this every so often and it warms me every single time, without fail.

For the first two weeks of her life at home, Madeleine began crying at 7:00 p.m. and did not stop until 5:00 the next morning. It seemed as though she had purposely planned this schedule, it was so precise. It did not vary for two solid weeks. Surprisingly, David and I managed to not rip each other's throats out, for all the stress and tension that ensued during that time. Madeleine had one of the loudest cries I had ever heard and I have to thank those who lived above and below us for never once complaining. Perhaps they were nice, or perhaps they just sensed the terribly difficult time we were going through and instinctively knew that, had they complained, one of us may have beaten them senseless.

But, that's not the best memory! This is:

Maddie was born on January 29. As the winter days darkened, I, exhausted from the 10-hour cry-fests, would begin to fade. I would lie on the large living room couch, turn on the TV softly, and lay my little baby down on my chest. She would turn over onto her belly and, with her little tiny tushy in the air, fall soundly asleep on top of me. The house would grow dark around us, my stomach would begin to growl, but I wouldn't move a muscle. I was fascinated with this child and felt honored beyond words that I was allowed to be her mother. David would come home from work and the evening would begin: dinner, 10-hour crying. But the silent attachment that Madeleine and I formed during those weeks remains with me now as though it were just yesterday.