I meant to write yesterday about all of Scott's qualities that make him such a good dad. But Grace had other plans for us.
When we finally laid down Saturday night, my body ached all over and my patience was shot. Grace spent the majority of Saturday screaming every time she ate. And I mean SCREAMING. There wasn't a position we could put her in that made her feel better. We tried every trick we knew. Nothing worked. After a very long day, we went to sleep and hoped that Sunday would bring better things.
Sunday morning came. Grace was smiling when she woke up. Things were looking up. We fed her, burped her, fed her again and then SCREAMING.
I lost it. I started crying right then. My baby girl was in pain and had been for two days, and there was nothing I could do for her. I felt completely helpless.
But Scott got up, gently took Grace, cuddled her, rocked her and sang to her. And she screamed. He was persistent though and after awhile, she calmed down.
In this moment, when I was feeling desperate and worthless, I was reminded of how great of a father he is. Always helpful. Always patient. Always loving.
Although I know it wasn't the ideal way to spend Father's Day, Scott jumped right in. Just like any great father would do.