Tuesday night, at the height of the emotional drama that has been going on in the previous 24 hours, I found myself at home … just V and I. The Husband is taking a class on Tuesday nights, so he was not home. And I was an emotional wreck.

I am known to have fairly good control of my emotions and can usually put off an impending break down until after V goes to bed. He knows when mommy is sad, but he’s never witnessed an endless river-of-tears kind of break down from me. Until Tuesday night.

When I started to feel the flood gates open, I went in to the bathroom to be alone in hopes of being able to get it all out of my system. I must have been in there too long because my tears were interrupted by a small little knock on the door. “Mommy?”

I regained as much composure as I could muster and went in to the living room with him, but not 30 seconds later and I was bawling like a baby once again. I was afraid of how V would react, but it wasn’t something I could stop. I didn’t expect the reaction I got.

He first asked me why I was sad. I told him that mommy couldn’t talk about it right now but he just needed to know that it had nothing to do with him. I hugged him tightly, showered him with kisses, and kept crying. He crawled under a blanket on the sofa and didn’t make a peep. He wouldn’t eat dinner, and much earlier than his normal bedtime, he told me he wanted to go upstairs and go to bed.

My first thought was that my poor child must be fighting a cold. I asked him if he was feeling okay, and he said no – but he couldn’t tell me what was wrong. He didn’t want a bath, didn’t want bedtime stories – which normally would have had me really, really worried but being that I could barely function myself, I didn’t argue. We put him in his jammies, laid down together on the bed and said a prayer. When I got up to leave the room, there was none of the usual attempt at negotiation, no pleads to have me stay a little bit longer. I was simultaneously shocked and grateful.

Yesterday was much better for me, emotionally – and last night I felt like I had to make it up to V by being the world’s funnest (I know, it’s not a real word) mom. We had a fantastic evening together –but there was something a bit different about last night. My son wouldn’t leave my side. He followed me everywhere I went – to change clothes, to use the bathroom, to make dinner, to get the mail – everywhere. I’m sure it was a result of the night before, so I welcomed the attention and showered him with love. It was, I believe, the first time my little man has ever truly experienced worry in his life.