Selena had been fussy since the morning, her tiny eyebrows pulled tight in frustration, her little lips pushed into a stubborn pout. No matter what the caregiver tried—cuddles, warm milk, soft blankets—nothing could settle the storm inside her. All she wanted was one thing: Mom.
As the afternoon sun softened, Selena’s mood only grew worse. She paced back and forth on her shaky little legs, letting out low, moaning cries that trembled with sadness. Every few seconds she paused, lifting her head and calling out softly, her voice rising in a desperate, pleading tone as if hoping her mother would appear at any moment.
“Mom… Mom…” her tiny sounds echoed, filled with longing.
When no answer came, Selena’s frustration grew into anger. She threw her hands down onto the blanket, kicked her little feet, and let out sharp squeals that trembled with emotion. She wasn’t being naughty—she was overwhelmed, tired, and aching for the comfort only her mom could give.
Her cries slowly turned into soft, exhausted moans. Her energy faded, but her heart kept calling. She lay on her side, pulling her knees close, eyes glistening with tears. Every breath she took came with another little whimper, as if she still hoped Mom would hear her from far away.
The caregiver stroked her back gently, whispering soothing words, staying close without forcing anything. Selena’s breathing finally began to slow, her cries melting into quiet hiccups. Her eyelids fluttered heavily.
Still moaning softly, still calling out even in her half-sleep, Selena’s little body relaxed at last. Her fists loosened. Her breathing deepened.
She drifted off with the faintest whisper escaping her lips—another tiny call for Mom—before silence settled around her.
Even in sleep, her heart was reaching for the one she missed the most.
