Lis Sis was the clingiest baby.
If she was in the lounge I couldn’t even walk into the kitchen without her going ballistic the moment I went out of view. One on hand it felt special to have that unconditional love, but it was also exhausting; because she point-blank refused to go with anyone else I never had a moment’s downtime in more than three years.
Now she’s an outgoing five-year-old, and I often wonder if that’s partly because she ‘put me to the test’ so extensively in her younger years she’s now able to relax in the absolute knowledge I’ll always be there. That, if I do go away for a while, I always come back again.
But as confident and sociable as she is, she still always finds time to show me she how much she loves me. She’ll wrap her little fingers around my neck, pull my face close and shower me with kisses, squealing: ‘I love you SO MUCH!’.
She’ll squeeze up next to me on the sofa – so close it’s like she’s trying to actually become a part of me – and gently rub the shoulder she knows I dislocated late last year. When I wake her up in the morning the first thing she’ll do – before she even properly opens her eyes – is pull me close and whisper: ‘My Mama…’.
She’s so thoughtful and affectionate that she teaches me to be a kinder, nicer person too.
I know that one day I’ll have to share that adoration with her friends, then her partner, then eventually her own family – and that’s the way it should be – but I’m going to keep holding her hand for as long as she wants me to, and enjoy every millisecond of that unconditional love.
• read about my birth story in Delivery Dramas