It’s early in the morning, the sun is just starting to rise. I’m the only one awake, I can hear my husband’s gentle snoring and my son’s deep breaths. I get up to check on my daughter and get ready for work… before I leave I memorize my children’s sleeping faces. They are so quiet, so peaceful, so beautiful.
I get into the car on my way to work and the wave starts to sweep over me. I’m not home enough, this life is not enough, time is not enough. The car is quiet, so I turn up the music to drown out my thoughts. Every kilometer I drive further away from my sleeping kids my heart breaks a little bit more.
As always, my day is so busy that I barely get a chance to look at my phone – meetings, problem-solving, negotiating, costings, fabrics, colours, trims, sketching, silhouettes, sales reports and deadlines take over my day.I should have been home an hour ago.
I get home to a house full of laughter and chaos – they light up when they see me and my heart breaks a little bit more. Just in time for parent rush hour – cooking, bathing and story-time.
It is in the quiet moments after, when my daughter rests her head against my shoulder and whispers “mommy I missed you”… when I look down at her beautiful, perfect face with her long eyelashes. Her long legs resting over mine… she feels so small, so fragile.
It is in the quiet moments when I rock my son to sleep, when I hold his tiny little feet in my hands, when I notice how small his hands are compared to mine, when I realize that one day he will be big and strong – but for now he is so small, so innocent. When he buries his face into my chest and clutches on to me for dear life…
It is impossible to not fall in love a hundred times over with your sleeping child. It is in the quiet moments when my husband – my strong, funny, handsome and loving husband – lies next to me, fast asleep – exhausted from a long day of work and doing everything I couldn’t do because I worked late again… it is in these quiet moments that I recite my sorries in my head.
I’m sorry that I have to work.
I’m sorry that I left without saying goodbye, because you were all sleeping.
I’m sorry that I’m not there in the morning to ask what you dreamed about because I’m at work dreaming about being with you.
I am sorry that the house is a mess, because I’m too tired to clean it up.
I’m sorry your clothes are sometimes wrinkled, because I didn’t have time to iron them.
I’m sorry that I sometimes put you to bed early, because I’m exhausted.
I’m sorry that when you are sick, my first thoughts are fear of taking a day off. That I’m not always the one who stays at home with you.
I’m sorry that I am not always the one to take you to the doctor. I’m sorry that I spend more time with my co-workers than with you.
I’m sorry that when your daddy or nanna says “mommy will be home soon,” you have no idea how badly I want to be there with you now.
I’m sorry that I’m not the one to drop you off at school in the morning, to tell you to have a nice day and that I love you.
I’m sorry that when you fall, I’m not always the one to pick you up. I’m sorry that I’m snappy, because I am frustrated from dealing with difficult people all day.
I’m sorry that I have to fake my excitement on weekends, because all I want to do is sleep.
I’m sorry that I can’t play pretend with you right now, because reality is just too real.
I’m sorry I missed your first steps.
I’m so, unbelievably sorry.
It is in these quiet moments that my heart feels heavy…
I’m not home enough, this life is not enough, time is not enough.