Kaya June,
I’m above the clouds right now, baby girl. I’m DC-bound for that dreaded work trip, I told you about. It’s only three nights, but it seems like a lifetime. I miss you, Bug.
I’ve known this trip was coming since I went back to work a few months ago, but I was hoping it would never get here. Last night, after I tucked you in for the last time for a few nights, I wondered if I could stop morning from coming if I didn’t go to bed. I wondered if there was a way I could somehow get out of this trip. But here we are: thousands of miles apart already; me in the sky and you on the ground.
This morning was hard. I think it might have been the hardest thing I’ve ever done, leaving you. You had a rough night: did you know I needed extra excuses to snuggle you all night long? I couldn’t keep my arms from hugging you over and over again today. Gosh, I love you so much. I sat in your room, holding you and telling you the plan for the week, reminding you that it will be Daddy that tucks you in at night and gives you milk and back rubs when you wake. I let you know that I will miss you so much and love you more than anything, even though I won’t be there with you for a few days. I told you that we’d see each other in pictures and on FaceTime. I begged for you not to forget me and asked you not to grow up too fast while I was away. I pleaded for you to keep on loving me as I’ll keep loving you. You looked up at me and touched my tears. I love you so much, baby girl.
I drove to the airport with blurry eyes. I wished I’d worn my other sunglasses that would have better trapped my tears from streaming down my face onto your sleeping head as I said goodbye. I’m glad you were sleeping. I don’t think my heart could handle it if I had to look in your eyes, then walk away. I whispered that I love you more than you’ll ever know and that I wished I didn’t have to go. I held your hand and kissed it before I closed the door. Your dad held me for a few minutes while I cried. Then he kissed me and I walked away, stopping only briefly to wave at the car as it drove away. I wanted to run after it. I wanted to give you one more kiss. I wanted to go home. Instead, I cried. I cried as I checked my bag. I cried as I sat in the bathroom stall, trying to get myself together. And I’m crying again as I write this, only sort of caring that the man next to me, the one loudly crunching his peanuts, might hear my sniffles.
I keep telling myself that it’s only a few days. I’ll be able to have some alone time. I’ll have time to explore a place I haven’t been before. I’ll be very busy, which will make me tired and help keep me distracted. I’ll get to sleep for more than a few hours at a time… But you know what, babe? I’d give away my freedom and my sleep in a heartbeat to get to tuck you in at night and kiss your forehead every morning. I will enjoy my trip, but I will not enjoy being away from you. I want you to have fun with your dad and your grandma and your nana this week. I want you to bond with Daddy and I’m happy he gets to experience how amazing it feels to feed your sleepy self when you wake at night (though I’m sure he’d appreciate it if you didn’t wake up too many times.) I can’t wait to see pictures of all your adventures. I’ll be landing in a few hours and I’ll be sure to call you. I’m excited to hear your voice. Please know that if I cry, it’s only because I miss you and wish I could kiss and squeeze you.
I’ve said it before, my little one, but I truly didn’t know what love was until I met you. You are the love of my life, sweet girl.
-Mama
Journey to a Little One 