Its 2 a.m., and like an alarm clock went off, I am awake. Every night without fail, I find myself waiting for my sweet little baby to start crying for me. There is no pattern, or reason with her, just simply that some nights she needs comfort and other nights she doesn't. And just like millions of moms before me, and the millions after me, I will never know why. What I'm about to say may sound like bullshit, but I feel a little defeated on the nights she doesn't cry out. And its never a terrible cry, more like a whimper, or her way of saying she needs a hug. I remember when she was so so tiny and needed me every night, multiple times a night and I would go to her, and feel the weight of her little body on mine, and love the way she splayed out across me. And I remember how she felt so small, and how she would never feel that small again. While, two to three times a night waking and trying to fall back to sleep was actually horrible, they were bittersweet. These nights are fleeting and soon she will be big enough to not need me in the night. But for now she still sometimes does, and despite all the sleep training, I am ok with going to her. I wake up waiting for her to need me. I guess in my efforts to sleep train her, I have conditioned myself to be awake each night. hows that for irony?
Last night, as I lay awake in my bed, listening to her sound machine, a lovely little brook, I waited. And she started to shuffle in her bed, and make sweet little noises. And I waited for the little sounds that let me know she needed me. So, I went to her and held her to me, and comforted her as I do, and I took in how she was getting so big, and how she seemed heavy. My heart broke a little. Her little arms wrapped around me just so, and her little legs now scrunched up instead of stretched out, she felt wonderful even at 3 a.m.
I had a flood of thoughts, and what struck me the most was how incredibly beautiful it is to be able to comfort her. And how she wont' remember any of this, but I will. How sad that she will never understand these feelings until one day she becomes a mom. And then it hit me. There's the rub. This relationship of ours is so complex and so simple all in one breath. Every moment is so sacred, especially the ones that nobody sees. In the darkness of her room, with the sound of flowing water to soothe her her, I fall a little in love with her. And maybe I'm alone in loving our middle of the night rendezvous, but I don't care. Everyone says how fast it goes, and I understand but I don't feel it yet, and for that I am grateful. One day I will have closed my eyes for just a little too long, and she will have grown up, and I will again find myself missing our middle of the night meet ups.