All Grown Up

My daughter Emily had all four of her wisdom teeth removed this morning. Today has been discussed, analyzed from all angles, and worried over for about 5 weeks. Let me tell you -- Emily's history with pain has been, well, painful.

She is only 13 months younger than her older sister Kelly, who when Em was born, became a "little mother." Emily didn't ever have to lift a finger because Kelly was there to get it for her. Emily decided what to eat, what to wear, what to play with, etc., based on whatever it was that Kelly was doing. She was the shyest of my children, spoke last, walked last...was literally, my "hip baby." Her tiny little childhood scratches, splinters, cuts and bruises were larger-than-life and hurt more than any other child's in the whole world. Many a time did I pry her from underneath the examination table at the pediatricians office -- shots were invented to torture Emily. As she grew older, my patience with her fear of needles lessened; my "motherly love" had a limit -- "Emily, please just deal with it and grow up"!

My "wish" came true today. Emily was up at 6am, dressed and ready to go. At 7am she was whisked into the back room at the ortho before I had a chance to say "good-bye," or "I love you, honey." Exactly an hour and a half later they wheeled her out. Admittedly, she was a bit loopy and her speech was somewhat garbled, but insisted she wasn't in any pain.

We got home, she ate some yogurt, took her meds, and took a nap (wait, I need to add this: on the way home, she thanked me for taking care of her and spending money to get her mouth fixed...wow). When she woke up she ate mac 'n cheese, applesauce, and more yogurt. I asked about the procedure -- I was curious as to her reaction to the needle and shot she received. She said she saw the needle, and the tears started to flow, but both the doctor and nurse were so sweet and nice to her, she knew she didn't have to be scared and the next thing she remembered was falling asleep. As soon as she finished telling me that, she left to go to McDonald's with her brother and sister and "gummed" a double cheeseburger. Currently, she is next door at her bff's house, just hanging out.

So, why am I left with this very empty feeling? As much as I was dreading her recovery, with what I thought was going to be whining, crying, etc., I was also looking forward to "baby-ing" her. She is, after all, my last baby. But that didn't happen. In fact, I'm the one left a bit weepy...today my baby girl "grew up" into a young lady right before my eyes. And I've been saying for a few years now how I just can't wait until the kids leave and I will finally have the house to myself? Lies, all lies...