Tonight, you needed me. Not the typical "I need more milk please, Mama." Or the "I need five more minutes before bed, Mama." And it wasn't even, "Read me another story?"
You just needed me. And you couldn't tell me why. You just cried and cried. So I let you. I let you have your feelings and let your tears soak my shoulder and I let you cry.
Maybe you were tired. Or sad. Maybe you were feeling something you couldn't put into words. But that's what Mommys are for. They can hold you through all the confusion and all the emotion and demand no explanations.
I just let you be.
I stayed quiet and held you. With you in my arms I rocked and rocked and soon we found our rhythm. It was just yesterday, Brian, that rocking to a rhythm was all it took to meet your needs.
It was just yesterday that I would go to you whenever I heard you cry out at night. And I'd stay until you were once again secure and asleep. It never took long. But I'd delay leaving for one long look at your peaceful face.
We developed a bond. You began to trust me.
I snuggled up in bed next to you and held your hand tonight. I lightly stroked your face until your breathing slowed and your eyes began to flicker closed.
Suddenly, yesterday seemed so far away. In your face I see new needs and new emotions. I realized I will constantly have to reinvent my mothering to keep up with your changing mind. I squeezed your hand tonight, Brian, and whispered promises that I will always keep...
I will always be there to hold you in silence. No matter what is going on around you or inside you, I will be there. If I don't have the answers or you don't know the questions, we'll figure it out together. Your needs may change - but our bond will never be broken.
Tonight, I delayed leaving for one long look at your peaceful face. And I thanked God for trusting me with such a sweet and loving child who is funny and kind and a great brother to Gavin.
Before I left, I whispered one last promise to you and to God.
I will always remember that you have special needs, too.