I have said it before, but I will say it again, until you have children of your own you never truly understand the bond between a parent and child. When I was younger I never understood why when I went out my parents worried so much. This was back in the days before mobile phones and boy did I get grief if I got if I got in late and hadn’t phoned to say I would be. At the time I thought that my parents were giving me a hard time and I was a hard done by teenager! Now, as a parent I understand completely. Your children are part of you, you love them unconditionally and rightly worry about them. You would do anything to protect them, as it is a big scary world out there. Even now at 33 they still worry about me! They will insist it’s their job and that they always will and I don’t doubt that for a second.
Funny thing it works both ways. At 33 years old if I have a problem (big or small) I will still talk to my parents. My parents have the knack of saying the right things, although they may not always be what I want to hear. Usually after a good chat there is a resolution to whatever problem I may have had. Even now at my age a cuddle works wonders and makes me feel a hundred times better. The only time my parent’s talks and cuddles couldn’t find a resolution, was the morning we met the Paediatrician and I had my doubts about Isabella confirmed. For the first time in my life however brief it was, my Dad was lost for words. It wasn’t for long and I now think it was more a case of finding the right words to say. Although his words didn’t make it all disappear (like I wanted it to) they let me know that my parents, like they always had been would be here for us and together they would help us through.
I suppose that is that hardest part about the situation we are in with Isabella. As a mother I have that very same bond with Isabella that my parents have with me. Isabella is a part of me and I love her more than words can describe. I give her all the kisses and cuddles I possibly can, but they won’t magically make her problems go away.
I always think back to when my oldest Niece was toddling around and she would fall and cry, and only a kiss from Mummy would suffice. That one kiss and cuddle would stop her tears and she would be smiling again and continue her toddling adventure. All because of one kiss. How I wish I could kiss Isabella’s precious little arms and she would gain control of them. How I wish I could kiss her delicate little feet and stop them from curling and allow them to bear weight. How I wish I could give her the biggest kiss on lips and hear her say ‘I love you.’ The wishes on my list are endless, but that is just what they are ‘wishes.’
That doesn’t stop me kissing Isabella, in fact it is totally the opposite. I am sure if Isabella could speak she would say ‘Mummy, please stop with all the kisses!’ So although my kisses won’t make Isabella feel better, I know that they make her feel loved. As a parent I can care for and nuture Isabella and offer her my eternal love and support. I will strive to do the best I can by her and continue on this journey looking for answers and possible solutions to help her achieve her potential. There is and there will always be however that small part of me, that still longs to ‘Kiss and make it better.’