Unwrapping the gift (at midnight)

>He’s teething again. Little mister has had a wet nose for a couple of days, but the real telltale sign is his out-of-character crabbiness. He just.can’t.handle getting his coat on. Later I give him a cracker, saying “remember, bite,” and he tries and winces, upset with hunger and frustration. Last night, after putting him down for the night in peace, a couple hours later I hear moaning.

And then it’s my turn.

Am I going to moan, too? Am I going to dread a sleepless night with the baby I’d so longed for just a few months ago?

To be honest — yes.

I climbed into bed worn out and weary, hoping against hope that the night won’t play out like I fear. I cling to my precious sleep like a long-lost friend, wanting to soak it up and shut out the demands of my little ones.

But when the monitor glows red and miserable midnight cries erupt from the speaker, I’m not irritated. I am moved. I throw the comforter back because my love motivates me to be the comforter. I want to be the one to get to him, I want to make it alright. I want to whisper, with shushes and words and soft hands and sweet medicine and a warm bottle, that I am here. I will always be here. My mama’s heart wraps him up and I soak this up, and I see these moments for what they are: Gifts of connection. Perks of attachment. This is what I’ve been working towards for months, and now I’m going to complain?

This middle-of-the-night gift, these quiet moments when the world is dozing, are healing to his wounded heart and perspective-changing to mine. This little window of time will be so short, so brief, and soon he won’t wake at night anymore. He’ll be off conquering the world — because his mama gave him ground to stand on. Because he can look back and know that when he needs me, I will be there. I will always be there.

I’m linking up on Tuesdays Unwrapped over at Chatting at the Sky today. Join me there and unwrap more everyday moments for the gifts they are.

  • Alene

    >Beautiful!!! My heart longs for the still of the night. Joining at Tuesdays Unwrapped. Blessings.

  • onceuponagrainofsand

    >I LOVE this! And I so understand the pull of wanting sleep, but then the pull of wanting to comfort your son. There are times when I start to get bitter about all of the lack of sleep that has been the past year… but I always am brought back to how much I love to go to him and make sure he knows I'm there, too.

  • Zuni, Chickadee Home Nest

    >What a beautiful post. As a grandmother now, I can reflect on the memories of holding my grandbabies' daddy just as you descrbe, and now I am blessed to bring once again bring comfort and peace and irrational love to these new precious little lives. Ohhh…I get to do it again! So…know that that precious little boy you are holding and comforting will someday be a daddy too, and will hopefully bring you the joy of a new opportunity to love and to know a new dimension of love. Blessings to you and yours.

  • Kimberly Van Brunt

    >Thanks, all. Zuni, that is a perfectly beautiful thought. I have visions of my son going into the world confident and full of grace, but I haven't thought much about him being a father one day. How lovely.

  • BigK

    >Wow, Kim, I needed this perspective today. I too have one that is up (and has been up) many times in the night. And, I do get bitter. Really, really needed this…thanks.

  • Jules

    >So true, to be at the place where they climb in after a nightmare because they know I am there, and I equate safety…I can't bemoan or belittle that power- thank you for that reminder :)