In the middle of the night
I call your name
- John Lennon
***
I rise to the surface of sleep quickly, too quickly. He grunts softly beside me, not quite crying and not quite resting. His legs kick up; I see one pajama-clad foot rise over the side of the bassinet.
I sit up and wait.
Will he go back down? Does he need a feeding? What time is it?
1 a.m., 3 a.m., 5:50 a.m.
The small hours, not quite night and not quite day. I trip down the stairs, making the bottle with my eyes closed. It is cool in the house. Summer is waning, and I hear fall creeping in on her slippered feet. I pull my sweater closer around me as I wait for the milk to warm.
In the blue light I gather him to me, wobbly neck and sweet breath against my face. I kiss him absentmindedly, affectionately, sleepily.
Together we glide on the soft brown chair in the almost-silence, crickets competing with his small satisfied sounds. His eyes are closed, the lids almost transparent in the dim light. My own eyes close and the bottle slips from his mouth—pop!—and I startle back into wakefulness.
Some nights he slides back into slumber seamlessly. The hard nights see us locked in a battle of wills. He won’t be soothed, he fusses in his wee white basket-bed with the green gingham trim, the same bed that housed his restless sister.
On the hard nights, I give in. I lift him from his oval basket and lay him beside me. He sighs and lifts his arms high over his head, a defiant V for victory. His small, perfect head tilts slowly, slowly, until it rests in my armpit.
I echo his sigh and turn my body toward him, making my own V as I curl around him. Skin to skin, face to face, we tumble back through the tunnel toward morning-time.
I would choose no other traveling companion. He is my compass, my true north.
My baby. My son.
{ 29 comments… read them below or add one }
That was so sweet…it took me back to those baby days.
Yeah, I remember those days as they weren’t that long ago. Funny how you will miss them.
Oh.
That was so beautiful. I remember those days.
That sounds so much more peaceful than your words have sounded in ages. I love the way your write openly and honestly. It was just a beautiful picture you painted.
That is beautiful.
Sigh, gorgeous.
lovely portrait.
Tired as I am, I still love these nights.
sigh, sometimes I miss those days. Their smell, the innocence of them as tiny dependent babies. Thanks for sharing.
That was truly beautiful. I can’t wait for that again.
beautiful.
it makes me remember those nights and makes me think it might be time to do them all over again.
AWWWWW……..you are finding your way!
ahh.. so pleased you feel that way! But stop now cause I’m broody enough as it is. Although my 10 year old still rests his head in the crook of my arm at night (not quite the same is it?
beautiful
Oh, this is just lovely.
Beautiful post, reminds me of having a newborn. Very vivid.
Beautiful!
My son wins that victory every night. I love having him in bed with us, in no small part because it always happens that my husband is the one he ends up scratching and kicking.
So pretty! I wish I could sleep with my littlest one with me again, but he’s 20 months and sleeps in his crib without protest. Can’t go messin with that.
*happy sigh*
Ohhh, GAHHHHH, this is lovely. Just lovely.
Your description brought a lovely olfactory memory to the front of my brain just now. Thank you for that.
*tear* What a beautiful post. I still give in to my 2 year old when he wakes at one or two am. I still love that feeling of him nestled into me sleeping. And I know that someday, he won’t want to anymore.
Ooooohhhh, I actually miss that. I waited several months to “give in,” but I’ll tell you, we all three only finally slept once I did. She’s still in our bed most nights, but I don’t care. One day I will miss it desperately, when she no longer crawls in with us.
Very nicely written. There are moments like that, even in the utter chaos of sleepless nights!
Beautiful. Takes me right back.
So lovely.
I’m adoring the nighttime snuggling and co-sleeping myself. Except, of course, during the odd night when I find myself in tears during those relentless No-Mom-I-Will-NOT-Go-Back-To-Sleep hours when I am somewhere in sleep-deprivation psychosis.
I’ll keep the true north compass idea in mind the next time I encounter one of those moments. Thanks.
stunning. gorgeous. simply… mmm….
“I give in. I lift him from his oval basket and lay him beside me. He sighs and lifts his arms high over his head, a defiant V for victory.”