A good description

I'm currently reading a book called Knocked Up, Knocked Down by Monica Murphey Lemoine. I'm not very far into the book, but already there have been many passages that have hit me.

She writes:
Something begins to unravel inside my stomach, releasing a feeing I can't quite identify, reminiscent of how I used to feel sometimes at summer camp. Loneliness? Homesickness? I swallow, hard, suppressing a deep, unexpected sob. Today was supposed to go upward, not down.

Its good to know that I am not the only one with that feeling. It was deep in the pit of my stomach and it lingered there. I hated every moment of it. I still get that feeling. Mainly at night, right before i'm going to bed. Sometimes I lay in bed and think what would I be doing right now if Aurora was here. Would she be waking up for a feeding? Would she be snuggled tight in her swaddler?

The one thing I have no doubt about, is that she would have recieved a million and one kisses. Her cheek would have been rubbed a thousand times. Her little hands would have been wrapped around our fingers, literally and figuralitvly. Oh what I would not do for her.

That summer camp feeling. I still get it. It's part of my new normal. I don't think this feeling will ever go away, because it's a feeling that something is missing. But instead of trying to figure out what is missing, we know exactly what is missing.

I love you Aurora.