It is close to midnight as I lie in bed, eyes open and alert.
Max is fast asleep next to me, and I am completely still as to not wake him.
In the next room, I hear you in your crib.
In the next room, I hear you in your crib.
You are letting out soft cries, and I think you may just be too hot to sleep.
I wait a moment and make sure you won't just fall back asleep.
Suddenly, you burst into loud tears, and I am on my feet moving quickly toward your room. I open the door and a wave of hot air hits my face. I find you crying, face down in a small pool of tears that has quickly formed. I pick you up and pull you close. I whisper a gentle 'shh' into your ear and you calm down instantly. I carry you back to bed with me and lay you down next to me on my king sized pillow atop the same sized mattress. You are calm in the crook of my arm and nuzzle into my chest. You are already fast asleep. I look at you in the dark room until my eyes begin to adjust and I can start to see your tiny, perfect features. I watch your chest rise and fall. I see your long eyelashes flutter as you dream vivid dreams. I am thankful you still need me like this, and I know it won't last much longer. I think of how I can't complain about losing sleep when so many mother's lose so much more than that. How they lose their tiny love to an unexplainable mystery syndrome.
I think of sadness and tears and empty cribs.
I think of women with empty hearts wandering around at night, lovesick.
Wishing they could be woken up by a tiny cry.
I remind myself that you are here and safe and warm, with a strong, loud heartbeat that matches mine sometimes. I remind myself that I don't deserve any of it.
You let out a contented sigh as if you'd been listening and knew I needed comfort.
I kiss your soft, round cheek and pull you closer to my heart.
I wait a moment and make sure you won't just fall back asleep.
Suddenly, you burst into loud tears, and I am on my feet moving quickly toward your room. I open the door and a wave of hot air hits my face. I find you crying, face down in a small pool of tears that has quickly formed. I pick you up and pull you close. I whisper a gentle 'shh' into your ear and you calm down instantly. I carry you back to bed with me and lay you down next to me on my king sized pillow atop the same sized mattress. You are calm in the crook of my arm and nuzzle into my chest. You are already fast asleep. I look at you in the dark room until my eyes begin to adjust and I can start to see your tiny, perfect features. I watch your chest rise and fall. I see your long eyelashes flutter as you dream vivid dreams. I am thankful you still need me like this, and I know it won't last much longer. I think of how I can't complain about losing sleep when so many mother's lose so much more than that. How they lose their tiny love to an unexplainable mystery syndrome.
I think of sadness and tears and empty cribs.
I think of women with empty hearts wandering around at night, lovesick.
Wishing they could be woken up by a tiny cry.
I remind myself that you are here and safe and warm, with a strong, loud heartbeat that matches mine sometimes. I remind myself that I don't deserve any of it.
You let out a contented sigh as if you'd been listening and knew I needed comfort.
I kiss your soft, round cheek and pull you closer to my heart.
