Shoved to Them
She is 7 months old this week, and still not sleeping through the night. Whenever I say this out loud to other mothers, they shake their heads and commiserate with me over how horrible it is to be sleep deprived and why won’t those silly babies just sleep?
I nod along in agreement, and accept their condolences….but I secretly love it. I love the 3 A.M.waking. It is in the quiet darkness of my bed, with my beloved husband sleeping beside me, that I get to bask in the sweetness of being her mom.
My little one pats my cheek and lets her baby hands meander their way across my cheek. I whisper her name and she croons love songs back to me. We quietly giggle at each other as I ruffle the downy baby fuzz of her hair.
It is in the late night darkness that I get to stroke the smoothness of her cheek and admire her plump little feet. There is no one else demanding my attention, no chores to be done. There are only the night time sounds of crickets and sprinklers outside, and the sleeping sighs of my husband nearby. For this one hour of my day, there is calm and rest. I have nothing to do except mother my sweet girl.
She presses her body next to mine, hungrily eating. As she does, I marvel over the size of her, and remember how small she was not so very long ago. Her snuffly snorts are the music of my late night waking. Her babbling soliloquy is my night time serenade.
The night will come when we do not wake until morning. Her growing body will at last be able to make it through the night. That night our evening engagements will come to an end.
Not yet, please, not yet.
Let her fingers skitter up my arm tonight. Let her plant her slobbery kisses on my chin. Let her tell me the wonders she has seen today in her own peculiar prattle.
Just one more night. Please, one more night, let me have my 3 A.M.
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