In Mommy's Arms

A few days ago, I felt this phantom tug on my left shoulder. A faint clasp. Ever so slight but enough to make my heart begin to beat a little bit faster. Almost like a tiny, little hand was holding on tightly. With a growing feeling of longing, emptiness and sorrow, the memory became so vivid to me as though it were really happening again. And the very veins within my arms began to shoot pain down their inner lines and an ache arose in my hands that was so palpable, I could almost feel it. I thought my heart was going to burst as I let the memory come.

I was at home standing up with Andrew in my arms in the dining room. I smiled as the memory played on. His little hands were grasping onto my shirt. One clung to my left shoulder area and the other grabbed onto the area just below my collarbone. My weight was shifted so that my left hip stuck out a bit to offset a bit of his weight from my arms to the rest of my frame. His little head was actively looking all around at what was going on. His big brothers were doing something at the table like coloring or water colors. And he would constantly move his head to take in every little thing that was going on in the room.

As I shifted my weight to walk to set him down, I could feel his grip tighten to hold on better. I loved the feeling of that tug. After taking a few steps, I shifted my hold on him to gently set him in his bouncy seat my shirt would pull out from me in the two spots where his little fists were closed in an attempt to avoid being let go of. And he would look into my eyes with his pleading with me not to let go.

Sometimes I would tell him that I loved him so much but that I had to go do something for just a minute and then I could pick him up again. (I really spoiled him by holding him a lot. I was so crazy about him.) Then I would pry his fingers loose hand by hand while he kept giving me those big, blue, pouty eyes of his.

And sometimes, I would look at him and have to pick him up right away, rub my nose against his temple, give him a kiss and take him with me. Looking back at him after he was nestled back into my arms, he always seemed to be so happy that he was back where he had wanted to be - in mommy's arms.