dueling heart

Thursday morning, bright and early, while others are prepping Thanksgiving dinner and leisurely sipping coffee, I will be on a plane headed for the east coast. I am flying in to BWI to visit Jessica and the new baby, as well as all my family, and I get to do it for six days. And I am so excited to see everyone all in one place. I haven't seen Jessica or my mom since Britton's birthday, haven't seen my nephew Garrett or my niece Caroline or my brother-in-law Tim since April. Not to mention my aunt Jill and cousin Stephanie. It's a visit that's long overdue.

But as excited as I am, I am also overwhelmingly sad to be leaving Britton for those six days. Yes, I will miss spending Thanksgiving with the hub - more than two days off work (in a row!) are a luxury for us, and we do love spending that uninterrupted time together. But he isn't 15 months old. He knows where I am going, why I am going, and more importantly, the fact that I am coming back. And as impressed as we are with Britton's ever-changing vocabulary, she does not know what I am saying to her when I tell her that I am leaving. She doesn't understand.

I've never been away from her this long. But the reality is that if Britton comes with me, I will be taking care of her instead of Jessica and Emily. And in the end won't both parties be disappointed? I need to be there for Jessica as she was for me when Britton was born - willing to pull the 2:00 a.m. shift, helping me take Britton out of the house without being terrified something would go wrong, teaching me to breastfeed and burp and how to swaddle. Not out of obligation, but out of the need to be a part of my sister's life.

So, yes I know it will be a long time away. And I know I will be missing out on every little thing Britton does while I am gone. I hope that her time is spent having fun, drawing and coloring, "cleaning" everything in the house with baby wipes, running outside, putting a blanket on Sadie, eating cold fruit to soothe her gums. And I can't write a list of how I do things because I won't remember the little stuff - like kissing Britton softly on her right temple while carrying her to bed, or humming "You Are My Sunshine" when she cuddles for a hug, or knowing she is whimpering for Winnie when she can't say what is wrong.

I can't let this ache in my heart interfere with my joy of meeting my niece for the first time. There is room enough in my heart for ache and exuberance. But it doesn't mean I won't cry on the plane.