It’s the middle of the night. Or is it early in the morning?
Call it what you will. . . I probably shouldn’t be blogging at this hour.
I usually blog before bed when the kids are sound asleep and the house is silent. Last night, though, the exhaustion hit me and I collapsed into bed as soon as Meadow’s squawks subsided. My thoughts were cloudy. There was no way of sorting through my sleep deprivation. I only remember thinking I’m not sure how long I can keep going.
What they say is true. . . in the light of the morning everything looks brighter. It seems that this is true even for the very early morning hours. At 1:30 a.m. Meadow beckoned for me. My girl. . . she needed me. There is no choice. . . we Mom’s have to keep going. That’s just what we do.
As I sat in the darkness and stared down at my baby girl I felt a jolt that surpasses the energy-giving power that can be obtained by a 5-Hour Energy or Red Bull. I felt that rallying cry from deep within me that called forth the Mom in me and declared you have all you need.
As I stared down at the face of this precious girl I realize it’s true. . . I do. I wouldn’t trade these late night feedings for anything. I love the inherent trust she has that when she calls, I will be there. I love the way she trusts so much that her eyes never need to open. She rests in my arms and inhales what she needs. I know that she feels safe. I stare intently to catch her when she raises an eyelid as if to say I’m just making sure you’re still there.
And I am. I’m there. . . and I always will be because, put simply, that’s what we Mom’s do–we show up.
They say babies don’t smile until six or eight weeks. I beg to differ. When she raises that one eye to see if I’m in my place, I watch as her eyelid falls again and the sides of her lips stretch upward in a wide grin just for me. You can’t convince me otherwise. . . that’s her gift to me. An infant smile to remind me that all of it is worth it.
No, I wouldn’t trade these moments for anything.